High & Low
by PaperBlossoms
Summary: "She was young: just turned eighteen, and she'd set him straight with a glare and a 'you don't know me' when he'd taken a look at her cowboy boots and summer dresses and tried to keep her away by claiming he didn't have time for little girls trying to use him to upset their Daddy. She'd been right; he hadn't known her back then." /./ Life is full of detours. AU. No ZA.
1. Chapter 1

"_And I believe in Love_

_And I know that you do, too_

_And I believe in some kind of path_

_That we can walk down, _

_Me and you."_

_-_Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

…

"_Do you wanna know a secret?"_

_The question is murmured into his shoulder and is accompanied by silky fingertips trailing down the dips and curves of the abdominal muscles in her path. The touch spreads warmth throughout his body and even though her nails are cut short, they still send a shiver shooting straight down his spine when they tangle with the hair at the base of his stomach._

"_Depends," he grumbles, tightening his hold around her shoulders and pulling her petite and lithe frame even closer to his own. "Ya plannin' on tellin' me, or we gotta play 'I Never' again, 'cause I think we're fresh outta moonshine."_

_She giggles in reply, causing her small but perky breasts to rub against his upper chest and Daryl has to pull at every ounce of self-restraint he's got left to stop himself from pinning her body underneath his own and sliding back in between her thighs until the only thing he can feel is bliss. It's not that he thinks she would object, and the breathy moan that escapes her lips when her sensitive nipples make contact with his tougher skin more than backs up his claim, but what she's giving him now means so much more to him than anything he could ever do with his dick. _

_Daryl's always been a man of simple pleasures. _

_They've changed and remained the same over the years. He's always hunted; always liked the thrill of getting lost in the quiet by himself while he tracked down an animal in the woods and the quick wave of pride that would last just a flash as a bolt from his crossbow hit his target with a perfect shot. It used to be that he'd hunt out of necessity, a daily part of his life that determined whether he'd eat that day or go hungry for the night, but as he'd gotten older and money stopped running so tight he'd still hadn't been able to give the custom up. _

_Then there was his bike. Now, he'd built that baby up from a scrap. He remembers being nineteen when Merle'd shown up at their door with his own motorcycle in tow, deciding immediately that it just wouldn't do for his baby brother to walk and that he refused to let him ride bitch with him. They'd spent that summer buying the pieces they could get their hands on from the nearby junk yards and stealing what they couldn't from whatever poor sucker left their bike in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's been nearly two decades since that summer, and Daryl still couldn't find anything that brought him more peace than riding that thing out in an open road. _

_Except for this girl. _

_When he was younger and dumber and angrier, Daryl had done everything he could think of to try and make himself forget how shitty his life was and would always be. His days had been filled with drugs and booze and being lit out of his mind until he was barely able to stutter out his own name while passed out in rooms that smelled like piss and weed. Nights hadn't been much better, and he'd lost count of how many broads he'd fucked in dirty bathrooms or hidden behind a dumpster against a wall in a dark alley. He rarely ever remembered their faces, and neither party had been interested in anything close to going steady. _

_He'd been a fucking tool. _

_As he got older and grew sick and tired of always being one step away from ending up dead or in jail he started to clean up his shit. He switched the drugs for cigarettes. Got a real, honest to God, job as a mechanic in a shop that gave him enough overtime so that his paycheck was always more than enough to cover all his bills and buy a pack of smokes and fuel for his bike. The women had dwindled down until it was only a random occurrence when his spirits were feeling high or hitting low. _

_And then this tiny slip of a girl had shown up in his life; all golden blonde hair flowing down to her waist and big blue eyes the color of summer skies that sparkled with joy and mischief every time she smiled. Her skin was creamy pale without a single visible mark to break its perfection and Daryl was quick to discover that it would tinge pink with a blush that would bloom in her chest and spread to her cheekbones when she was feeling bashful or embarrassed. He'll never be able to stop the smug grin from forming on his face when he remembers that same tint is always present when she's exerted, out of breath, and moaning underneath him._

_She was young: just turned eighteen, and she'd set him straight with a glare and a 'you don't know me' when he'd taken a look at her cowboy boots and summer dresses and tried to keep her away by claiming he didn't have time for little girls trying to use him to piss off their Daddy._

_She'd been right; he hadn't known her back then._

_Daryl hadn't known that underneath all the sweetness she was tough as nails and just as fierce. He didn't know that she was loyal and protective and had the ability to love everything and everyone around her, and make people love her back just as easily. He hadn't known she was bright and smart and just as witty as the best of them. He hadn't known that a person could hold as much hurt as she carried in her heart without losing hope or being robbed of the compassion and empathy that oozed out of every single one of her pores. _

_He hadn't known a lot of things, and he'd been blindsided. _

_Beth Greene had him wrapped around her finger before he could even blink. _

"_No, we don't have to play that," she answers, angling her face so she can look at him and curling one of bare legs between his, effectively breaking him out of his thoughts. "How about I give you three guesses instead?"_

"_What do I get if I guess right?"_

_Beth grins, that sexy little curl at the corner of her lips that warns him she's feeling bold and confident and he knows whatever she's about to say will lead to nothing but trouble. "You get to take Jello Shots off of me."_

_That's his girl. _

_Laughter rumbles in his chest and he can't keep it in when she stretches out to press a quick peck on his jaw and nuzzles in. "Make it shots of Jack and you got yourself a deal."_

"_Okay," she instantly agrees, and then she's sitting up to lounge against the pillows on his bed and pulling the sheet along with her to cover her breasts because even though she'd grown comfortable in her skin and he's seen and touched every inch of it, she's still sweet and innocent._

"_Let's see," he pauses, pretending to heavily contemplate his first guess and giving her the most serious look he can muster. "I know," Daryl claims, lowering his mouth so that it's resting against her neck. He nips at her pulse point and she shudders when he licks the tiny wound and growls out his guess. "You like it the most when I use my tongue."_

_The blush is back in full force and he feels his lower body begin to stir when Beth lets out a jaded little pant that chokes in her throat. "That ain't really a secret."_

"_Guess not," he agrees, knowing full well that wasn't the answer she was looking for but being unable to pass up the opportunity to have her squirming next to him. _

"_Try again."_

_Daryl stares at her, and there's something in her eyes that's warning him to take this seriously, that whatever she's trying to tell him is important and she needs him to prove that he's with her and she's not alone in this thing they have going on. "You plannin' on movin' into town?"_

_She gives him a small smile and shakes her head. "Close, but that sorta depends on whether you can guess the secret."_

"_Not gonna get any hints here?"_

_She sits up from the pillows until she's kneeling besides him. She makes sure that the blue sheet is wrapped up tightly around her body and throws her rebellious hair off her face and behind her shoulders. Daryl can see the small light blue and purple bruises from where he'd sucked and nibbled at her chest and has to stop himself from tracing every spot. _

_It hits him again, just how beautiful she is. She's all delicate curbs and porcelain skin that radiates a glow and purity that a man like him should never touch or hold, but she's still here with him and he'll be damned if he ever gives her a reason to leave. She smells like lilacs in spring and tastes like a mix of strawberries and honey. She gets him higher than any drug he's ever taken and has him hooked on pink lips he always wants to kiss._

"_Daryl," she says his name, taking hold of his hand and intertwining her slim and elegant fingers between his larger and calloused ones. Beth scoots closer to him, until her face is right next to his. "Guess. Please."_

_Daryl studies her, from the way her hands are turning clammy with nerves between his to how her bottom lip seems to be trapped between her pearly teeth. His trained hunter eyes narrow when they catch onto her breaths coming out in uneven soft huffs and her whole body trembles as she waits for him to catch on. _

_It's her eyes that give it away, though. _

_Her sky blue eyes have turned midnight blue with hope and uncertainty and a hint of fear over a possible rejection that Daryl would have never been able to miss. It's a look he'd seen enough times on his own face when he was a kid and had still hoped for his momma to leave the bottle and love him instead and for his old man to be proud of him even after he'd taken out his belt and done the damage. It's the look you give someone when you love them but don't know if they'll reciprocate or it'll all blow up in your face. _

_For a moment, he can't breathe. _

"_You're in love with me," he states, but the disbelief and shock is so obvious in his voice that it comes out more like a choked out question. It's hard enough for him to believe that Beth even wants to really be here with him, just to begin with. The idea that not only was that true, but she loved him; was _in love_ with him was enough to make him question both their sanities. But he's looking at her and she's absolutely sure and sane and, fuck him, she really means it. _

_She smiles, enveloping him in a hug and wrapping her arms around his neck. Daryl's hands instantly go to her hips and he's still in a daze when she presses her lips against his and only pulls back to whisper, "you win."_

…

"_Are you even listenin' to me?"_

Beth cringes, angling her cellphone away from her ear in hopes of avoiding just a little bit of the screeching she's sure her sister is about to send her way.

It's not that she doesn't love and miss Maggie; she does, and Beth really does feel bad over not seeing her sister in over a year but they'd both been busy and their schedules just hadn't lined up. The older Greene sister had her hands full with her two year-old son and living a busy life in Atlanta with her husband, Glenn, and their friends.

She had time to help plan Rosita's wedding with Abraham and take Tara to a resort when the girl had gone through a bad breakup. Maggie'd had time to drive her son all the way to her Daddy's farm before flying out to San Diego with the rest of her friends because Eugene had scored some _super cool_ tickets to Comic Con for the weekend and there was just _no way _they could pass that up. Maggie had made time for a lot of things, but taking a weekend to spend time with her little sister had just not made the cut.

Beth had long-ago grown accustomed to playing second-fiddle in her sister's life and tried hard not to let that knowledge fill her up with resentment.

"I'm listening, Maggie," she tries to defend herself, holding the phone against her shoulder with her cheek while at the same time walking across the room to throw her passport and toothbrush into the carry-on bag she was packing. "I'm just tryin' to make sure I pack everything I need before we head to the airport."

"_Ya'll are coming to Daddy's farm, Beth,_" Maggie's voice scolds her through the phone, and she pauses to yell at Glenn to watch his son before he crashes into her momma's glass coffee table. "_I'm sure you can find whatever you leave behind here or in your old room._"

Beth wants to snap.

It doesn't matter that she hasn't lived at home in five years or that she's graduated from college and has a serious job and relationship. She's still a little girl in their eyes and they all continued to treat her like a baby that needs to be coddled instead of giving her the attention and respect she'd earned and deserved. "I'm not eighteen anymore," she reminds her, taking a deep breath to control her temper and remind herself that Maggie's never been one for reigning in her opinions.

"_I know. You're twenty-three and all grown up and you got a man._"

She's choosing to be the bigger person and let go of the taunt. "Yes. Exactly, and I would appreciate if you didn't refer to him as 'my man' and called him by his name instead."

"'_Fraid' we're gonna scare him off?_"

"He don't scare easy."

"_Are you sure you don't want me or Glenn to pick you guys up from the airport?" _

"No, we're good," Beth tells her sister, for the fourth time since this conversation had begun. She knows that Maggie means well, but it'd be nice to know that they trusted her enough to make the right decisions without asking for their approval first. "We're renting a car for the two weeks we're staying so that we don't have trouble moving around."

"_If you say so."_

"I do, and I really have to finish packing now or we're gonna miss our flight. I'll see you tonight," she rushes out and hangs up the phone before her sister can object.

Beth takes a deep breath, turning her phone off and shoving it into her purse before giving in to the urge to let herself fall face down onto the bad, groaning out loud at the tension that had bunched up in her shoulders and was threatening to give her headache. Speaking with Maggie always left her feeling the same way, and she hates that a little part of her loves her sister the most when she's far, far away.

"Should I be worried that you don't want them referring to me as your 'man'?"

His voice cuts through her thoughts and Beth feels as the tension starts to slowly melt off her in tiny waves as his playful tone brings a smile to her face. He's always been good at that; knowing just what to say to make her smile and brighten up her day or when to stay quiet and give her space. Communication had never been a problem between them, and she knew deep down in her heart that he would never do or say something with the intention of hurting her.

She peaks over her head to find him grinning as he leans against the doorframe, and Beth has always been fascinated by the way his presence could fill up any room and demand attention. "Only if I have to worry about you seeing me throw my little tantrum just now."

"I happen to find those tantrums cute," he teases her, walking towards the bed and kneeling down to press a kiss against her lips before resuming the search for his missing wallet. It made her laugh to think that her usually precise and immaculate boyfriend could do something as silly as misplace something he used every day, but she guesses her own nerves and dread were rubbing off on him.

"That's because you're weird."

"You love me anyways," he throws back, a wide smile on his face and she refuses to dwell on the little pang that explodes in chest every time she hears him say it. He must have noticed, though, because his expression loses all traces of mirth and instead worry has taken its place and in a moment he's sitting beside her and holding her hand. "Hey, are you okay? You know we don't have to go if you're not feeling up to it."

Beth squeezes his fingers in reassurance, lifting one of her hands to push back a few strands of hair that draped across his forehead and covered his kind eyes. "I'm okay. You wanted to meet them and this is Otis and Patricia's twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. They're renewing their vows and I wouldn't miss it for the world."

He doesn't look convinced. "You know that if you want to we can go somewhere else, right? Just say the word and we'll take this vacation wherever you want."

Her heart flutters at his words and this is why she knows she has to love him.

It's not that he's offering to take her wherever she wants. She's a farm girl, plain and simple, and she'd never been embarrassed of that. Her daddy had worked hard his entire life to ensure his children had the best he could give them and Beth knew she'd lived a comfortable and enviable life, full of love and laughter and parents who would pamper her. She had grown up helping to clean up after their horses and cattle and picking up eggs with Maggie every other morning and spending summers out in the pond while Shawn promised not to scare her.

When she was younger she'd spent entire days out in the garden with her momma, knees and elbows deep in mud and grime as they worked together to make something beautiful and those were some of the most precious memories she carried in her heart. Patricia would smile when she'd come out to bring them lemonade and always made sure to have plenty of sugar cookies available for the duo.

She wants to share this part of herself with him. She wants him to see who she was before he met her when she was already in college and away from everything that had shaped her into the person she became. She wants him to see the pictures and hear the stories of her when she was a teenager obsessed with her favorite pair of cowboy boots and with having her hair pulled back into a pony tail and when she'd carried the biggest torch for Blake Shelton, instead of a woman in her early twenties who was always dolled up in elegant dresses and high heels as he waltzed her around in his arm from function to function.

And he wants that, too.

He wants to see all of it; all of _her_. He wants to meet her sister and make a good impression on her father. He wants to see with his own eyes where she grew up and listen to her as she tells him all the little quirks and habits that one can only learn from growing up surrounded by people you trusted. He wants to watch her sing in the little café where she'd told him she used to perform during open mic night when she was sixteen and fearless.

He wants to give the world and all she has to do is place her hands in his and take it.

"This is where we have to be," Beth tells him, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before opening them again and smiling at the man who'd proven to her he loved her, over and over again. "Now let's hurry up before we're late."

He nods, and they spend the following hour making sure they've disconnected all the appliances inside their apartment and that everything's packed away and their car reservation is verified. He finds his wallet ten minutes before they have to leave, and she blushes when it turns up bunched up underneath the dress she'd been wearing the previous night and on top of her dirty clothes hamper. She's just finished locking up when he presses her against the wall and kisses her until she's out of breath and blinking up at his big brown eyes as her arms wrap around his waist.

"I love you, Beth," he tells her again, and she forces the words out of her chest before they can even try to anchor into the pit of her stomach.

"I love you too, Pete."

…

**AN: Hey all! Hope you like this one so far!**

**Just to clarify, the top part in italics takes place over the summer when Beth turned eighteen and is in Daryl's POV. The bottom part takes place in present time, where she's twenty-three and it's in Beth's. I'm going to be following that format for a couple of chapters until what happened in the past gets explained. Daryl's forty-one now and I'm placing Pete at around thirty-two. **

**Also, I'm using Pete because I liked his character. He had honor and he believed in doing good, and Zach and Jimmy didn't fit into the role I needed for this story. **

**Anyways, don't forget to review! And I'll be updating my other two stories in a few hours so keep a look out for that, too. **


	2. Chapter 2

"_I burrowed in your love once_

_(Made it my home)_

_I burrowed in your love once_

'_Cause when you love_

_You set your heart on gold_

_We were capsized by the weight of it all."_

_-_EZA

…

_She hasn't stopped smiling._

_It's been two days since she'd confessed her love for him while they were tangled up in his sheets and sinking in their post-coital bliss. _

_Before the shock even had a chance to start melting away he'd pinned her body under his and slid back into her wet heat. Daryl remembers the way she'd wrapped her legs around his waist and dug the heels of her feet into the muscles of his lower thighs, desperate to pull him further in. Her fingers had clutched onto his shoulders, leaving behind thin crescent-shaped cuts where her nails had torn through skin. _

"_Sing for me, songbird," he'd panted in her ear, grunting in pleasure when she'd squeezed her inner muscles and arched against his chest, the sheet that'd been securely wrapped around her long forgotten. _

_Her breath had hitched, eyes snapping shut as she turned her face to press an open-mouthed kiss against the corner of his lips, "I love you."_

"_Say it again," he'd demanded, increasing the force behind his thrusts and lowering his hand so that his digits could press down and swipe across her engorged clit. "Louder."_

"_I love you," Beth cried out, voice louder and broken, shuddering as her body trembled with her unexpected release and waves of pleasure pulsed from deep within her core and flowed out to the tips of her toes and fingers._

_Daryl hadn't lasted much longer, slowing down and undulating his hips in shallow strokes to let her ride out the wave of her orgasm before pushing back into her for a few more hard and graceless ones and spilling himself inside her with a satisfied groan. He'd let his body collapse on top of hers for a few minutes, mindful not to drop too much of his weight onto her smaller frame, but Beth always seemed to like it the most when he held her that close. _

_Her breath was harsh and uneven in his ear as she tried to relax, and the soft little huffs of air that escaped through her parted lips blew across the thick strands of his hair. Her arms come up to rest languidly around his shoulders, and for once he doesn't tense when her soft skin makes contact with the scars that are branded as angry reminder of his past on his back. _

"_I love you," she repeats in a solid whisper, and this time her voice is free of lust and wanting and the only thing he can hear is her genuine sincerity and devotion, making it mean so much more to him; making it real. _

_He wants to tell her he loves her, too. Wants to look her in the eye and kiss her face as he repeats over and over how he loves her and how she's brought so much light into his world and how she makes him believe that there was more in life for him and that they can build a future together. He wants to tell her to go get her things from her Daddy's farm and that she can move in with him and that he'll give her anything she asks for and kill anybody who ever tries to lay a finger on her. _

_But the words won't come out, and he knows deep in his gut that there's a part of him that's still terrified that she'll realize how much better she can do. There's a part of him that still doesn't understand what she's doing here and even though he'll never purposely give her a reason to leave, he won't force her to stay if one day she wakes up and decides she wants to go. That part is simmering under his skin, fighting a losing battle between reason and desire, but it still has enough strength to keep his words in. _

"_You're the best thing that's ever happen' to me," he tells her instead of what he knows she wants from him, and Daryl feels like an even bigger coward when Beth softly cups his head, traces one of brows with delicate fingertips, and turns his face so she give him a kiss. When their lips separated she'd smiled at him and ran her thin fingers through his hair, rubbing little circles into his scalp until his body had relaxed under her touch._

_And now they were sitting on dirty stools inside a dingy bar just outside of town._

"_Can't believe you got me to bring ya here."_

"_I can be very persuasive," Beth giggles with a shrug, ignoring his surly mood and popping another one of her French fries into her mouth._

_Daryl grunts, dropping his shoulders and taking a drink of his beer. "Your Daddy's gonna kill me if he ever finds out I brought ya to a bar."_

_The innocent smile that she shoots him is too wide and self-satisfied to sit well with him. "Nah, if he was gonna shoot ya it'd be for getting in my pants, not for bringin' me to a party."_

"_Girl, you're takin' too much pleasure in what's waiting for me when he finds out 'bout us."_

"_You're telling me that Big, Bad, I-Don't-Give-A-Damn, Daryl Dixon, who eighty percent of the people in this town are terrified of, is afraid of my Daddy? The retired vet who lives up in the farm?"_

_Daryl stares at her, thinking of what he would do if he ever had a daughter and he found out she was doing anything close to what he and Beth had been up to in the past month. "Hell yes."_

"_You're such a drama queen," she laughs, loud and sweet and he's transfixed by the way her whole body seems to shake with the emotions that run through her, like she felt everything so much that she couldn't hold those feelings inside of her. _

_A small smile tugs at his lips, and he doesn't even try to stop it. She does that to him; makes him happy and wanna smile without even trying to. "And you're fuckin' gorgeous, songbird, just like a princess."_

_A blush spreads across her cheeks, and a quick glance down to the sweetheart cut of her dress is enough for him to see that it begins between her breasts. He likes that even now, mixed in with the rough crowd that makes up the group he's always been acquainted with, she's still being herself. When he'd mentioned that Martinez, who'd grown up in the same neighborhood he had and was one of the few people Daryl considered a friend, was doing a grand reopening party for his bar, he'd half-expected her to show up with edgier clothes and a ton of makeup covering her pretty face in an effort to look older and fit in._

_He'd been so proud and more than a little impressed when she'd shown up at his front step wearing a navy blue dress, with tiny red roses covering the print, that ended just above her knees. Her hair hung down in golden curls that were clipped back into a loose ponytail and her denim jacket served to keep away the chill that settled down at night, even in the middle of a Georgia summer. On her face there were only faint traces of eyeliner that made her eyes look even bigger than they already were and on her feet were her favorite pair of cowboy boots. _

_It was the first time they were stepping out anywhere together, the first time anybody would see them and know that they were a couple, and he was damn-glad that they were doing it this way. She wasn't hiding who she was or pretending to be someone she wasn't; she was proud and happy to be with him and he knew she didn't give a shit what anybody thought about them. Everybody who recognize her would immediately know that little Miss Beth Greene was hanging from the arm of the infamous youngest Dixon. _

_Daryl looks at her now, pale skin and golden hair shinning like a fucking beacon even inside this room with low lights and an even darker interior, looks at her and knows that almost every other man here is staring at her like she's the most delicious treat they'll never get to taste, and a wave of possessiveness hits him like a train. _

_He tugs at her arm, careful not to hurt her as he closes the space between them and drags her onto his lap. One of his hands tangles into the curls of her hair until it's settled comfortably at the base of her neck, and the other caresses the length of her side before stopping in her lower back, spreading his fingers until they're resting just above the curve of her ass. _

_The dark tint of her eyes lets Daryl know that she's expecting him to dominate her with his kiss now, but that's not what this night is about. Instead, he leans down until his lips are grazing hers, and he feels her shiver when his tongue gently touches against her own. Her jaw widens, allowing him all the access he'd ever need from her, and moans low in her throat as his tongue licks around the moist heat of her mouth. The hand on her back pulls her closer, angling his hips so she can feel the hardness pressing against her thigh. _

_He wants to show her how much he loves her, even if he can't say the words yet._

_When they break apart, her eyes are glazed over and her lips are bright pink and swollen. She tries to grin at him, but it's ruined by the dopey smiley that's taken over her face. Beth tilts her head to the side, blinking at him twice, and then breathes out, "you know what?"_

"_What?" he teases her back, pulling on one of the locks of hair that'd been loosened from its proper place when his fingers had messed up the clip's hold. _

"_I'm gonna love ya all my life, Daryl Dixon." _

…

Savannah Hilton Head International is chaotic.

There are children either crying or running in circles throughout the lobby as their anxious and overwhelmed parents struggle to keep them under control, lovers kissing each other goodbye in a heartfelt embrace before they must part, and rows upon rows of lonely souls shifting in and out of terminals that lead them to unknown destinations.

Beth finds it breathtaking.

She's always liked watching people, finding it fascinating how much could be learned from a person if one would only take a few seconds to just _stop_ and _look_ and _listen_.

Her momma had always told her that she had a gift for people; the ability to look at a person and see what they really needed. Annette would smile and tell her how proud she was that her little girl had been born with such a big heart and that she should never let anything or anyone take away her smile. She'd encouraged her to look for the best in people; the goodness in the world, and to always believe that everybody could be _more_.

"_Listen to your heart, baby girl, and it will never lead you wrong."_

Later, after her mother and brother passed away, after the _incident_, Beth had tried to remember and live by her mother's words. She tried not to be angry at Maggie for leaving with her brand new boyfriend instead of staying with her, understanding that her older sister had a found a different way to deal with her heartache and that it just didn't include her as part of the package. She listened to her Daddy as he read passages from his bible speaking of _hope_ and _faith_ and _perseverance_, even though she hadn't really believed she'd ever feel any of those things again.

She tried to let Patricia comfort and look after her, but the feeling of guilt that would rise in her chest every time she imagined the kind woman filling her mother's role in her life made Beth ultimately push her away. That same guilt had her avoiding Otis, who had always been nothing but kind to her, because she knew how much hurt she was bringing his wife. And Jimmy, who had been sweet and understanding with her even though their three-month long relationship shouldn't have required for him to stick with his suicidal sweetheart, had been asked to stop coming around.

It wasn't until the day her Daddy had stopped reading to her, placing the book down on the table and holding her hands in his own, that he'd finally gotten through to her.

"_Bethy, if you don't have hope, what's the point of living?"_

His voice had been low and broken while he stared at her with his kind eyes full of sadness for the family he'd lost and the youngest that might still follow. It was the first time since she'd taken that piece of broken glass to her wrist that her father had spoken to her as an adult; a woman capable of making her own choices. He'd put away his need to protect her at all costs and instead asked her to face her decisions and look deep inside her heart for a reason to move on, to stop simply breathing and existing and to come back to the world of the living.

Beth listened.

She came out of her room and started looking for Patricia and letting the woman who had always been like a second mother to her back in as she tried to mend her broken heart. She'd hug Otis when the man started coming in early every Saturday morning to pick her up so they could both ride into town to collect the farm's supplies. She spent all her afternoons tending after Nellie and riding him around their property before heading inside to finish her homework assignments.

And when a year and a half later she'd met a ruggedly handsome man inside a hardware store while Otis picked up shovels and barbed wire, she'd let herself feel the flutter that'd tickled low in her spine.

She hadn't let the fact that he was quite possibly double her age or that he was brusque and hardened stop her from pursuing this man who looked like the epitome of strength but had the deepest set of sad blue eyes that she had ever seen. There'd been something in the way he'd quickly turned his gaze away from her, as if he didn't deserve to even look at a girl like her, that had a little voice whispering in her ear: reminding her of her momma's words about trusting her heart and her daddy's advice on holding out for what was yet to come.

So she'd taken a chance, and ended up burned.

Beth looks at the man sitting beside her now, quietly reading his beaten-up copy of a Howard Zinn book on American Ideology as they wait for their flight to announced.

Pete Dolgen was the kind of man that romance novels were written about.

He was tall and handsome, with his dark brown eyes and pitch-black hair. He was fit and had a physique built up after years of military service for the U.S. Army, where he'd been stationed in Fort Benning after completing two more rounds than were requested of him and coming back home to Georgia a decorated Lieutenant for refusing to abandon his comrades in battle. Pete came from a wealthy family and Beth had met him at an exhibition that the Dolgens were hosting to raise funds for the art department at Savannah State University when she was starting her third year that Fall.

It's not long before she's always on his arm.

It begins with him taking her out for a hot drink at the local café and soon after she's his official date to all family events. He defends her when his mother scrunches up her nose and makes her dislike for the country girl obvious to the world, and tells his brother to shut his mouth when Mitch decides that she's only after his bank account. He never lets anybody try to talk her down or make her feel like she's not their equal.

But above everything else, Pete Dolgen was kind. He treated her like if she was a diamond in the rough; held her hand when she was sad and respected her decision not to talk about her past. He'd waited patiently for her to open up and didn't push for more than she was willing to hand out. Pete never tried to make decisions for her or treated her like a child even though he was just a few months shy of being ten years her senior when she hadn't even been legally allowed into bars.

Beth would have been an idiot not to let him stand by her side.

Their flight gets announced and she laughs when he scoops up her carryon suitcase before she can grab a hold of the handle.

"Oh, come on! The thing can't even weigh twenty pounds!"

Pete just grins back at her, offering his arm instead for her to lock around her own. She takes it, and they both know she won't let go until it's time for them to climb the steps onto the plane. "You're a lady; you shouldn't have to carry things when I'm right here to do it for you."

"You're aware that sounds awfully chauvinistic, aren't ya?"

"Well, yeah," he pretends to wave her off, and she knows it's only his manners and the respect that he was raised with that are at play here. "But you like it."

He ain't lying, and she pinches his arm softly at the same time that she bumps her hip into his and shrugs out, "I really do."

They keep moving towards the terminal and once they've taken their places in the front of the Business Class section of the plane Beth can't help but notice the way Pete's eyes are snapped shut and his fingers are turning white where they clutch onto the arm rest like a man holding onto a lifeline before he drowns. He takes a couple of deep breaths to force himself to relax and she stays quiet until after the plane takes off and they're flying steadily high above ground. Gently, she places her hand over his and waits until his grip on the cushioned metal eventually lessens.

"I know it's ridiculous and irrational," Pete sheepishly admits, dropping his gaze to his lap and turning his hand over so that she can slip her fingers between his. "I mean, out of all the things in the world that I've seen, riding an airplane should be the last thing to scare me."

"It ain't something to be ashamed of," Beth shakes her head, giving their interlocked fingers a squeeze. "When I was little and I would run into my parent's room at night because I was scared, my momma used to tell me that it was okay to be afraid as long as I was willing to look up the courage I needed to keep moving on."

"I wish I could have met her."

"Me too," she sighs, leaning over so she can rest her head on his shoulder even though the armrest hurts when it digs itself into her ribs. "I know she would have loved you."

"Hopefully your dad feels the same way."

"He will," she reassures him, frowning as she remembers the Greene family member that was most likely to cause trouble. "Honestly, it's Maggie you should be worried about. She has a tendency to stick her nose in people's business and the last time I brought a boy home poor Jimmy almost passed out during her dinnertime interrogation."

Pete winces at the visual, and the way his eyebrows scrunch together while he taps the fore and middle fingers of his free hand on his outer thigh warns Beth that something is bothering him.

"Do you think…" he starts off, hesitating for a few second before finishing his question in the most self-doubting tone she's ever heard him use before. "Do you think that they'll think it's wrong, us being together, because of how much older I am than you?"

She feels her shoulders stiffen as a verbatim of all the arguments that had been used against her ex-lover momentarily flood through her mind, like a slap across the face when you least expect it, and the jagged box she'd locked his memory in rattles around in her lungs so loudly that she's sure she'll feel the bruises by the day's end.

She wonders momentarily what Pete would think of her if he knew how she'd spent the summer she'd turned eighteen wrapped up in a man who was thirty-six. She wonders if he would be disgusted with her if he found out how easily and quickly she'd offered up her virginity to that man and how she'd cried and begged him not to leave her when he decided he was done with her. She wonders if Pete would change the way he looks at her, like she was the sun and the moon and the stars, the day she finally owned up the guts to tell him all the things she'd done before he'd come into her life.

After all, that man had looked at her that way, too, and just look at how that ended up.

_No_, she fiercely reminds herself, struggling to regain her breath and keep a smile on her face. Pete was not the same as _him_. Pete would never hurt her and he was a good and respectable man. Her family would see that and they would accept him just as she had, regardless of their age difference. There was absolutely nothing that they could use against him, and if at the end of their stay they decided they didn't like him, Beth would respect their decision but still go back to their home in Savannah and things would be okay.

Pete is still staring at her, waiting for an honest answer to settle his nerves or prepare for the worst. "I think," she pauses, looking for the best way to word her response and making sure he's listening to the honesty in her voice. "I think that they might find it a bit odd at first, but once they get to know you they'll see what I see and they'll understand why we're so good together."

He doesn't look completely convinced, but decides to let go of it for now. "Hopefully."

She hates the uncomfortable quietness, something so out of order with the tenderness that she's found with Pete, that follows his quiet declaration.

"You know we could have taken your car to the farm, right?" she asks him in hopes of alleviating some of the tension that's settled between them. "It's only about a five hour drive, less than that if we don't hit any traffic."

"I know," he agrees. "But I also know just how much you love flying in these things and I figured I could put up with an hour of nerves if it meant we got to do something that makes you so happy."

"Aww," Beth practically coos, leaning up so she can kiss his cheek and smiling wide as her heart melts at the sentiment behind his admission and ignoring the looks the old woman across the aisle is shooting at them. "You didn't have to do that, Pete."

He doesn't even hesitate. "I'd do anything for you."

She wants to tell him that she loves him and that he's wonderful and that everything will be okay once they get to the farm and that she's so happy that he's here with her now but the words get stuck in her throat and they refuse to budge and all she can manage to cough out is a pathetic, "me, too."

Beth pushes the armrest back, moving it out of the way so the space is free for her to lean against Pete and settle down in peace for the rest of their trip. His arms quickly open for her to fall into them and drape over her shoulders. She wiggles around in her seat until she's comfortable and sighs in contentment when she finds the perfect spot to rest her feet.

But then she can feel his breath fanning against her cheek and a quiet like laugh resonates in her ear. "What's so funny?"

"I just thought of something."

"And…" she prompts him to continue.

"It's just that since you love music and flying so much, maybe I should start calling you Songbird."

Beth freezes.

The box rattles viciously this time, stabbing its way into her heart with a violence that leaves her unable to breathe. If she thought the memories of her family yelling at her about him before had been bad, they are nothing in comparison to the memory of the soft whisper in his rough voice as he'd take control of her body and asked her to, '_sing for me, songbird.'_

It's stupid, and she feels like such an idiot for letting him continue to affect her after so many years without seeing or hearing from him, but that doesn't stop the tears from stinging her eyes and she has to snap them shut to keep them from pouring out. She's out of Pete's embrace in a second, whipping her head around to stare at him from the neutral spot of her own seat.

"Don't ever call me that again."

It comes out harsher than she'd intended and his mouth drops open in confusion at her sudden outburst. "I'm sorry; I didn't think you'd mind it so much."

She turns away from him, focusing her attention on the ground below as she stares out the tiny plane window. Beth can feel his stare still being directed at her as he patiently waits for her to explain. "It just brings back bad memories."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he starts offering, placing a hand on her shoulder, and she hates that she flinches away from the contact as if he were the one to blame for her sudden spiral down memory lane.

"No."

She is not having this conversation with him now. Not on a plane while they're on the way to her childhood home for him to meet her family. Not right after he'd just reaffirmed for the hundredth time how much he loves her and proved for the thousandth how much he's willing to do to make her happy. Not when she can't find a place to run away to if he hated everything she's hidden from him.

This is not the fucking time to talk about Daryl Dixon.

He frowns, but accepts her answer and grabs for his discarded book from underneath his seat instead of trying to speak or touch her again.

By the time the plane lands in Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International, Beth wishes they had just stayed home.

…

**AN: Hey all, hope you liked the update!**

**I'm a big advocator of giving credit where credit is due, and I'll be the first to admit that I got the "songbird" bit from tanglingshadow's "Halo," and from NR calling Beth that in an interview. I thought it was an adorable and fitting nickname. Hopefully neither will mind very much.**

**Next, I'm super thankful to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. This kind of story is more than a bit out of my comfort zone and it's really nice to have feedback and reassurance that I haven't completely lost it, yet. I try doing Review Replies but sometimes I just run out of time and I've started looking for a Beta because I always miss little things after rereading this so many times. **

**Also, I've finally caved in and joined tumblr. Don't know how to do much more than reblog but if any of you are interested my user name is paper-blossoms-everywhere. **

**Thanks for reading, and don't forget to take a second to review if you've got time!**

**(End of the extremely long AN.)**


	3. Chapter 3

"_What's your worst hangover, your best night yet?_

_Your 90 proof, your Marlboro Red?_

_The best damn thing you lucked into?_

_That's easy, girl_

_Mine would be you."_

_-_Blake Shelton

…

_Word about him and Beth spreads quickly._

_He means real fucking quick. _

_Martinez' reopening had been on Friday night and now it was Monday evening and Daryl was just about done with all the knowing looks and stares that'd been directed at him since he'd shown up at Dale's garage for work this morning. Apparently, one of the bints at the party had gone off and blabbed all weekend about how he'd been there with the youngest Greene and was 'practically dry-humping the farmer's daughter' in front of everybody. _

_Work had been barely tolerable. A couple of the guys, led by Omar and his always loyal wingman Axel, had taken a particular glee out of making fun of him and his sudden preference for 'sweet and innocent-looking jailbait'. Daryl would have knocked both of them on their asses if they'd made any other comments about Beth, but he knew that neither of the two men meant any harm or really gave a damn about who he was with and were just taking the opportunity to give him shit after years of knowing each other._

_The shop's clients were another thing. _

_He swears to God that if he catches another one of those old broads from the church committee staring at him like he's the Devil reincarnated, sent up from the deepest hole in Hell to corrupt the innocent souls and bodies of the young girls in their small town, he's gonna give 'em all a reason to be really afraid of him. As it is, it'd only been T-Dog's presence that stopped him from yelling at them to mind their own fucking business._

"_Good things happen to good people," T-Dog had told him, pulling his attention away from the ladies he'd driven over from the church in his van so one could pay Dale her tab for fixing a broken radiator the previous week. He'd placed a hand on his shoulder, patting it twice in a demonstration of solidarity, before giving him a sympathetic smile. "I know Beth, and she's a smart girl. Don't let a little gossip ruin whatever happiness y'all found."_

_Daryl'd been too dumbfounded to do anything other than nod. _

_He could easily remember all the times Merle had made racist and bigoted comments about the man, calling him a dog and nigger and every other fucked up and derogatory name and stereotype he could think of when it came to the Atlanta native. While Daryl hadn't ever really signed on to that school of thought, he knew he should have tried and put a stop to it instead of keeping his mouth shut for so many years and letting Merle spit his poison. It wasn't until after the last time his brother took off that he started running into T-Dog more frequently, eventually buying him a beer they'd both understood was meant as a silent apology once he realized what a loyal and honest to God good person the man was. _

_Still, he couldn't wait for the day to be over. _

_As soon as the old clock hanging from the north wall chimed five o'clock Daryl'd climbed out from underneath the old impala he was working on. He hadn't even bothered to change his oil-stained shirt or wipe off the grease that'd been accidently splattered on his face when they'd taken out the transmission from the Chevy. Instead, he'd called out to Dale that he was leaving for the day and ignored Oscar's taunts about getting home to the little misses, flipping him off over his shoulder at the same time that he revved up his motorcycle so he could get home. _

_Truth was, he wasn't even sure when he'd be seeing Beth again. She was supposed to come over tomorrow night, but he doubted her Daddy would be giving her much of a chance to get away from the farm once he found out what his daughter had been up to in town since she'd graduated from Jefferson High. If her old man hadn't found out by now, it wouldn't be long until the news reached him. Daryl was already half-prepping himself for when the retired vet showed up at his door, demanding answers about his baby girl. _

_It was not something he was looking forward to, facing off with the man who was very likely to end up being his future father-in-law, but he'd stand his ground and fight for her if push came to shove. He was done with people telling him he didn't deserve the things he wanted in life. _

_Daryl eases off the accelerator once he starts nearing the edge of town where his house is located. It stood at the end of the quiet street, a single floor with a large backyard and a tool shack that was one winter away from falling apart. His neighbors were the Peletiers, consisting of an older woman named Carol and her teenage daughter Sophia. They were good people who minded their own business and he would gladly admit to taking a liking to them, keeping an eye out for both girls when things started to buzz around in the rough neighborhood._

_It wasn't much, by anyone's standards: small with two bedrooms, a bathroom, living room and kitchen; practical and efficient. The sink in the bathroom leaked if you didn't close the handles just right and the plumbing rattled at night when the weather got cold and the pipes would strain. The outlets in the kitchen had been crossed by a useless electrician and needed some fixing, and the heater in the living room had to be replaced. The place needed a lot of work that Daryl just hadn't had the time to get to. _

_But it was clean, and it was his, and he was paying it off with the money he worked his ass to earn. Most importantly, it'd never belonged to another Dixon. As far as he knew, nothing bad had ever happened inside and he could step into any room and feel peace instead of the dread and weight of his memories. It'd been less than two years since he'd sold their old house and moved into this property, and Daryl's only regret was that he hadn't done it sooner. _

_He pulls into the driveway, a smile blooming on his face as he notices the familiar blue pick-up truck already parked there. It always threw him for a loop, really, how his tiny slip of girl got around in her cowboy boots and monstrous old truck, beat up and dented from years of labor in the farm. She was a natural behind the wheel, too, used to the uneven terrain and messed up highways; his girl could handle herself in anything. _

_Daryl knew she was there, but it doesn't prepare him for the sight that meets him when he opens the door. _

_Beth is in the kitchen, standing next to the stove as she lifts the lids off a few pots and mixes up the sizzling and steaming contents with a spatula. Her long hair is pulled up into a messy bun and the frilliest blue apron he's ever seen is tied around her waist. Instead of her usual dresses she's wearing a spaghetti strap lilac crop top and a black pair of skinny jeans that fit her like a fucking glove, accentuating her ass in a way that makes his mouth water even more than the smell of whatever she has baking in the oven. _

"_Hey!" she greets him when she spots him walking in, turning off the handles on the stove and double checking that her timer is still working. She pulls at the strings of her apron and tosses it onto the counter, rinsing her hands in the sink before practically skipping over to him._

"_I wanted to surprise you," she giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck to bring his head down for a kiss. Beth moans when his hands fall to her waist, gripping onto her hips with enough pressure to make her lose her breath and gasp when his right hand slides up underneath her top and rubs against her rib bones._

_Daryl loves that she doesn't care that his shirt is dirty and will probably stain her pretty blouse if she keeps pressing against him. He loves that she doesn't even flinch at the smell of engine grease on his cheek and forehead when she leans in to kiss him. He loves that he can hold onto her even if his hands are dirty and she'll never look down in disgust at how he's tainted her porcelain skin or rubbed off some dirt into her pores._

_She wants him, and everything that comes with him._

_He breaks their kiss and she sighs happily against his lips, bringing one of her hands to rest on his chest as she hugs and holds onto him. "So, what do you think?"_

"_You got me," he admits, resting his chin on the top of her head and letting his hand wander until it's caressing the length of her spine and Beth starts arching into his touch. "Didn't think I was gonna see ya 'til tomorrow, at least."_

"_Me neither" she agrees, separating from him but grabbing onto his hands so she can slip her fingers between his. "But I've got some great news and I had to see you tonight."_

_She looks happy; more so than he was expecting and he wonders just what had happened that had her in such a great mood. He's sure that she has to know the town's been gossiping about them by now, and he'd figured she'd be worried about her Daddy's reaction. Yet here she was, happy as a clam and cooking dinner for him. "You gonna tell me soon?"_

"_Yeah, but let's get you comfortable first," Beth nods, smiling at him at the same time that she tugs onto his hand until he's following her to the sofa. She pushes him softly, motioning for him to take a seat and Daryl wants to groan in pleasure when his tired back hits the soft cushions she'd brought over from her room last week. He thinks he must be getting old, because spending entire days tucked under a car just wasn't the joy that it once used to be. _

_For her part, she takes a seat on the floor, crossing her legs as her swift fingers begin to work on the knots of his heavy-duty boots. She's quiet and diligent as she untangles the laces, pulling off both his shoes and carefully placing them to his right before tugging the white cotton socks he's wearing along with them. Her hands are soft and gentle and Daryl can only stare at her as she massages the balls of his feet with a tenderness he didn't know existed before her. _

_They've done a lot of things together, and he's seen and touched every part of her he could reach and vice versa, but somehow this little moment felt just as, if not more, intimate than if they were naked and wrapped up in each other. She doesn't have to do this, and he would be the first to tell her as much, but he knows that she's doing it because she wants to show him that she cares about him. This completely crazy girl wanted to love him and prove it and he was getting tired of fighting against the voices yelling in his head for him to let go of his reasons and just let her do so._

_God, it's so fucking domestic: him coming home from his nine-to-five to find his beautiful girl with dinner almost ready for him, wanting him to relax in the sofa as she takes care of him and welcomes him home._

_He knows his father must be turning in his grave right now, and no doubt Merle would call him a pussywhipped little bitch if he were to walk into the scene that he and Beth were creating at the moment, but Daryl doesn't give a shit. _

_He wants to live out this dream; this little glimmer of hope that she lights in him._

"_Patricia knows about us."_

"_What'd she say?" he asks, groaning when her nimble fingers press down against one of the knots of stress that'd dug into the bottom of his heel. "Should I be expecting to be ambushed soon?"_

_Beth shakes her head, tilting her chin and beaming at him. "Nope, I talked to her about it last night and explained everything," she tells him, patting his legs before climbing onto the sofa so she can sit beside him and gushing with uninhibited joy. "She understands, Daryl! She even said she'd help me talk to my Daddy about it."_

_For the second time today, he's left speechless. He hadn't expected anybody in her family to be in their corner, especially not the woman who played the strongest maternal role in Beth's life. He feels like a weight is being lifted off his shoulders, and a little bit more of that hope she's always trying to get him to have creeps into his heart. _

"_That's just, fucking great," he mumbles out, cringing at his word choice and hoping that she understood he meant that in the best way possible and that he's really just out of his depth right now. He's never been good with words, but he'll always give it a try when it comes to her. "I mean, really, didn't think we'd have anyone being all understanding from your side."_

_Her smile turns into a grin, so he guesses she understood what he meant. "I know! But Patricia is one of the most amazing and kind women I've ever met, and, yeah, she was a little shocked, but once that wore off she was happy that I'd found someone to love who treated me right."_

"_When are you plannin' on telling your dad?" _

"_Tomorrow night, at dinner," she answers, leaning closer so she can kiss him again. "He's finally gonna know and then we won't have to worry about sneaking in time to see each other anymore."_

"_Yeah, cause he's gonna lock you up in there and load up his shotgun so he can come looking for me," Daryl grumbles, pinching her hip and smiling when she laughs out loud. "Want me to make it easier for him and be there when you tell him tomorrow?"_

_His offer hangs between them, and her expression turns soft and loving as she gazes at him and contemplates her options. "I've been thinking about that, and I think it'd be best if I talked and explained to my daddy alone, first."_

"_Ya think so?"_

"_Yeah," she repeats, scooting closer to him until their legs are pressed up together and he can almost hear her heart beat. "I know he's gonna be mad because he's so protective, and I think seeing you there ain't gonna do us much good. Once he cools off you can come by so he can see what I see in you, and I know he'll understand."_

_Daryl lifts one of his hands until it's behind her head, pulling at the yellow scrunchie that was holding her bun up until the golden waves he's obsessed with tumble down along her shoulder and back. "You're placin' a lotta faith on a somethin' that only you believe."_

_This time, Beth only shakes her head at him, leaning down until she's ghosting her lips across his. _

"_You're a good man, Daryl, it just takes people a little time to see it."_

…

The drive up to the farm from Atlanta is filled with silence.

The plane arrived exactly as scheduled and the car she'd reserved under both their names had been ready for them as soon as they checked into the rental lot. Pete loaded up their luggage into the trunk of the shiny black Mercedes before taking the driver's seat and they'd quickly filtered out of the heavy city traffic. Once they hit Highway 85, Beth had hoped to dissipate the tension by playing music and she'd meddled with the radio until she landed on a station that aired classic rock, causing the last half an hour to be filled with Queen's greatest hits.

_Bohemian Rhapsody_ is nearing the end of its third verse when Beth finally decides that enough is enough and she has to own up to her outburst.

"I'm sorry."

Averting his sight away from the road for just a second, Pete glances at her apologetic expression and his brows furrow together before looking away. "You don't need to apologize for being upset about something, Beth."

"I shouldn't have snapped at you," she murmurs, looking out the window to the pretty Georgia woodlands, bursting with color even though it was January and they were straight in the middle of winter. "I just sort of got thrown for a shock and I didn't expect to react the way I did."

Pete sighs, relaxing the death-grip he'd had on the steering wheel but still not looking her way. "I don't care that you snapped at me, I just wish you felt like you could trust me enough to tell me what's going on."

"I do trust you!" she insists, wishing he would pull the car over so they could sort this out or shut his mouth and wait until they arrived at the farm to talk it out. If there's one thing she's learned from being a southern girl it's that the road is always unpredictable, and she really doesn't want to take the chance of them being distracted and running over some poor animal trying to cross over. "There are just some things that are painful for me to talk about."

He must have read her mind, because he pulls over to the next opened clearing and shuts off the car before speaking again. He lifts one of his hands so it's cupping her left cheek, and Beth leans into his warm touch by pure instinct. "I know, but part of healing is telling people about those things," he says, using his thumb to caress the slight arch of her cheekbone. "If not to me, I really wish you'd talk to somebody about it. I remember the way you were when we met, and I never want you to feel like you're back in that place."

Pete means well: she knows that, but it doesn't stop the feeling of a knife being twisted in her lungs from churning in her stomach. She doesn't want to talk about this, not to him or to anybody else; not to people who would never be able to understand how fervently she'd felt everything and how _he'd_ snatched that away from her and left her empty and cold. Not to somebody who would sit there and judge her as a still being a stupid teenager who couldn't let go of heartbreak, even if it screwed up a relationship that promised her everything she could ever want.

"There was nothing wrong with me when we met," she spits out, moving her face away from his hands and leaning back until her back presses against the vehicle's door. "I wasn't and I'm not some little doll that needs to be fixed."

"I never said you were," Pete defends himself, keeping his tone normal and neutral even as her own rises and her temper flourishes. "But you were so sad, baby, even if you don't want to admit it. And the look you gave me in the plane was just like the ones you used to get back then and I don't want you to lose your happiness again."

Beth stares at him, hating that she's analyzing his face for traces of deceit that he's never given her a reason for, but it's as void of malice as it's ever been and she closes her eyes for a second to let herself give in. She takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the moist ground from this morning's rain and the gentle brush of the cool breeze coming in through the rolled-down window. If she focuses, she can hear the soft rustling of leaves on the floor and the chirps from the cicadas searching for shelter.

"It's true," she confesses, and the admission leaves her feeling like she's just torn the scab off a weeping wound that needed so much more time to finish knitting together. "But I'm not sad when I'm with you. You make me happy."

He smiles at her, and she watches as the concern eases out of his chocolate-tinted eyes and the warmth that she's grown so accustomed to finding in them returns to its rightful place. "You make me happy, too, and you know how much I love you."

"I love you, too," she answers, and this time the tightness in her throat is gone and the words come as easy as air when they leave her mouth. "I'll think about it, okay? But not right now. We'll sit down and talk about all this when we go back to Savannah in two weeks."

Pete nods, pressing a kiss to her temple when she settles back into her seat. "Together," he promises, turning the key in the ignition to restart the car and easing back into the highway.

…

The farm is just the same as she remembers it.

It's almost sunset by the time they roll into the Greene's property, and Beth feels her heart flutter with a heavy wave of nostalgia when her eyes are instantly drawn to the spot where her mother's favorite roses still bloom gorgeously in the garden. She has no doubt that Patricia is the one to thank for it, and she feels her love and appreciation for the older woman multiply tenfold. Without thought, she reaches for Pete's hand and squeezes his fingers between hers for just a second, waiting for his reassuring look to give her the boost in confidence she needs to reunite with her family.

He doesn't disappoint, and Beth's never been happier that he's here with her than she is in this moment.

"Where's my little Bethy?"

The voice pierces across the yard when Beth opens the door to climb out of the car, and on the top step of the front porch stands her Daddy, tall and proud and strong as ever, arms wide open as he waits for her to greet him. She doesn't even bother to close the door before she's sprinting over to him, letting herself be lulled by her father's embrace and the familiar scent of hay and cotton that clung to him. His snow-white beard is longer now, and his hair is pulled back into a pony tail just above his neck.

Lord, she'd missed him.

"Daddy, there's someone you've got to meet," she tells him, taking a step back and turning to find Pete standing patiently at the bottom of the steps, waiting for her to introduce him. "This is my boyfriend, Pete Dolgen."

Hershel stares at him, scanning his whole appearance in much the same way that she had earlier in the car, before holding out his hand for the younger man to shake. They're so different, her Daddy and Pete, and that's never been more obvious to her than it is as her father stands in his clean but well-worn work clothes and her boyfriend stands beside him with designer jeans and a nice gray dress shirt on.

Everything about Pete's life has led him to being formal and precise; from his strict upbringing in a wealthy home and society to his military training and background as a high-ranking officer. He was always clean and presentable, with his hair brushed and his shoulders thrown back and head held high.

"I'm Hershel Greene," he introduces himself, walking down the remaining steps so that they're both standing on the lawn. "It's very nice to meet you, young man. I'm glad you had the opportunity to come down here with my little girl."

"Honor's all mine, sir," Pete answers immediately, polite and respectful, and a little grin tugs at Beth's lips as she watches the two men interact.

"I hope you'll enjoy your time here. Breakfast is served at six in the morning and there are chores to be done right after. Otis will give you a list of your lot tomorrow and you can ask him if you need help with something. Oh, and you'll be staying in the guest bedroom, of course."

Pete is already nodding his head in agreement when Beth decides it's time to interrupt her father's mischief. "Daddy," she scolds him, placing a reassuring hand on Pete's arm and trying hard to sound stern, but it's hard when she can't even keep her laughter at bay. "Stop it; he doesn't know you're only joking."

"Oh, hush, doodlebug," he shoots back, pinching her cheek before turning to give Pete an amused smile. "It's been so long since Glenn stopped falling for my tricks that Pete here is running short on luck."

Speaking of which, they've been standing in front of the house for the last ten minutes and Beth hadn't seen or heard anyone else. Her sister and her family were already here, and Patricia and Otis moved in after both Greene sisters left King's County. Her father needed the help and it made sense for the two people who'd been his constant friends and confidants, working side by side with him for over half their lives, to join him. By all means, the place should be bursting with sounds right now, just like she remembered it being when she was younger.

She was not expecting this quietness.

Beth didn't know how to deal with it.

"Where's everybody else? I thought for sure there'd be a full house when we got here."

"Maggie brought her friend Tara from Atlanta and they both headed into town with Patricia to pick up some groceries we were missing for tomorrow night's dinner. Otis took Glenn and Michael out for a ride because that little troublemaker is obsessed with the horses and scaring the hens."

She doesn't mean to, but she flinches, and she can feel Pete's gaze burning into her as he tries to figure out what's wrong.

No. She will not let herself feel bad about her sister bringing her friend over for what was supposed to be two weeks of family bonding time. She'd met Tara almost two years ago and she was a nice girl, a little awkward and eccentric, but sweet enough. It was not her fault that she'd gotten caught up in the web of broken promises and missed phone calls that the sisters had spun for themselves, any more than it was her fault that Beth felt that she was the girl she'd been replaced for

Instead, she focuses on her Daddy's words about her sweet nephew. Maggie's son, Michael, was sweet and cute as button, from the last pictures she'd seen of him. He looked just like Glenn but had the Greene spark shinning in his dark brown eyes. His wavy black hair flopped across his forehead and he was infamous for always crawling into tight spaces and scaring his parents half to death.

They were all suckers for him.

Beth grins at her father, hoping to hide the hurt that threatened to overshadow the joy that this day was supposed to bring. "He's Maggie's son, what were you expecting?"

Hershel's expression turns wistful, and she knows that he's not thinking of their conversation anymore, but instead is wrapped up in a memory from better times that felt so far away. "That he might be," he pauses, and that little drop of sadness that lived inside all of them flickers across his face before he has a chance to put it away. "But I swear that he reminds me of how Shawn used to run around when he was that age."

Beth tenses, waiting for the familiar slap of hurt that her brother's memory always brings to hit her, but all she feels is a dull little throb in her chest, filled with longing for her brother instead of anger and resentment over him being taken from her. It's the same she feels for her mother, and she's thankful that the feeling has lessened to where she can now remember the good things they did that used to make her so happy. "Shawn was terrible; I can't even start to imagine what messes he'd get into just to prove he was the cool uncle."

She turns to Pete, smiling at him and hoping he wasn't feeling too left out from their conversation. He never had a chance to meet the rest of her family before today, and Beth knows she hasn't exactly been an open book when it came to sharing what it was that drew them apart. "You can't even imagine how much hell he would have given you for being here with me," she grins, teasing him in the same comfortable way she always has. "And then he would have tried to steal you away so y'all could be each other's 'Bro.'"

"That would've been something great to experience," he laughs, and his posture relaxes now that he's feeling a little bit more welcomed and involved. That was her Pete; always wanting to do things right and please the world, making everybody love him without much of a choice.

They all turn when they hear the familiar sound of an engine drawing nearer, and Beth recognizes her old pick-up truck driving straight into the yard. Her sister steps out of it, slamming the door behind her while she's being followed by what looks like a worried Tara and a very upset Patricia, who's scowling at the older Greene sister.

Maggie marches up the steps, storming right past her and Pete and her Daddy without a second glance, stomping up the steps until they can all hear her bedroom door being slam shut loud enough to resonate throughout the entire house. Pete stares at her in confusion, and Beth sighs as her only explanation.

God, it was good to be home.

…

**AN: Hey guys! **

**Thanks for all your lovely reviews on the last chapter! It makes my day to read them and find out how much you guys like the story. And look, this is my longest chapter yet, to say thanks!**

**I've started talking to some of you guys on tumblr and you're all lovely. Also, it's taking way more self-restraint than it should to step away from that site. Ha!**

**Hope you like this one as well, and this is a fair warning that now that everyone's back in town things are about to start unfolding. **

**Thanks for reading and don't forget to review! **


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: It's late, but my hand slipped. A lot. Oops. **

…

"_You got your hand in my pocket_

_You like to dance with my fingertips_

_Don't gotta wait for permission_

_You and I, we live for this_

_Oh, you know we live for this."_

-Walk The Moon

…

_Daryl wasn't expecting to be ambushed the moment he opened his front door. _

_Then his sweet girl had her mouth slanted over his, fusing their bodies together as much as she could, and he decides to just roll with it._

_The first few seconds are all a blur of hands and limbs, knocking the wind out of his lungs when she crosses her arms around the back of his neck at the same time that she jumps up to wrap her legs around his waist. His hands fall to the bottom of her thighs by pure instinct, cradling her body to his and securing her weight above him. The door is still opened and he's able to regain enough of his senses to kick it shut with his foot a few seconds before Beth breaks their kiss to viciously pull her pretty white blouse off._

_Her bra joins it on the floor right after, and now he's got a half-naked Beth wriggling in his arms, digging her fingernails into his scalp and pulling at the short strands of hair to press his lips closer to her own._

_God, he's missed her. _

_It'd been a little over two weeks since the last time he'd seen her; the night she'd surprised him with dinner in his home after the weekend at the bar. News of their relationship finally reached her family and her Daddy had all but locked her in her room, like a little girl being grounded after being caught sneaking out to a party. She was under constant supervision, with the keys to her truck taken away, and she hadn't been able to leave the farm since then. Daryl'd been receiving her angry and frustrated text messages and calls, trying his best to comfort her but knowing he wasn't really being much help. He knew where Hershel Greene was coming from, and he couldn't help but understand him. Lord knew girls like Beth shouldn't have shit to do with men like him._

_Don't mean he has to like it, either. _

"_How'd you get off the farm?" he asks when she pulls back to catch her breath, keeping her forehead pressed to his and panting softly against his cheek. _

"_Later," she answers, dropping her hands to the hem of his black shirt and already tugging it up his torso. He lowers her back onto the ground so he can untangle his arms from the sleeves at the same time that nimble fingers start working at the buckle of his belt. "I need you right now."_

_There's something in her voice that feels wrong, claws at his subconscious and echoes in the back of his mind, blaring like warning bells amidst a tornado to stop and make her talk to him now. _

_But then she's got his belt unbuckled and she's dropping to her knees in front of him, undoing the zipper and shoving down his jeans and boxers until they're stuck around his thighs and his cock springs free. She just stares at it for a few seconds, hard and long and thick, inches away from her face and waiting for her touch, before looking up to meet his eyes. He can read the uncertainty and hesitation mixed in with curiosity and lust in hers, and he wonders what she sees when she looks at his. _

_Her hand gingerly rises until it just barely ghosts across the vein that runs along his length, and he watches as a little pant escapes her lips and her eyes darken with determination the moment a grunt of pleasure finds it place out of his lungs and firmly between them. She grips him, experimentally running the smoothness of her palm against the rugged skin while her other hands splays on his abdomen for balance. And then she's leaning forward, pressing her lips against his shaft in butterfly kisses before opening her mouth and letting the head of his cock slip inside._

"_Fuck," Daryl curses, wanting desperately to bury his hands in her hair and push her head forwards so she could take him completely, but he knows she's not ready for that yet. This is the first time she's ever done this for him, and while he'd fantasized about it plenty of times, he never thought he'd actually get to feel her pretty mouth wrapped around him. Sweet girls like her dropped to their knees to pray, not give head, but then again, he should have known better than to try and clump Beth in with the rest._

_Hadn't he learnt his fucking lesson about that already? _

_Her tongue is shy and teasing as it slides underneath him, coming back up and probing at the opening she finds on the tip. She inhales and exhales deeply through her nose, which scrunches up a little at the same time that he feels the first traces of pre-cum slipping out of him and into her hot and damp mouth. He thinks he might actually blow when her lips tighten around him and she swallows it down, causing more of his dick to slide inside so much that he can feel the head hitting the back of her throat. _

_Beth's eyes widen, shooting back up to him and asking for guidance._

_Daryl looks at her, half-naked, on her knees with his cock between her lips, golden hair flowing down her back like a waterfall and a scarlet blush painted on her chest. Her nipples are hard and dark pink, tight little nubs that give away her arousal and he doesn't know what he's ever done to deserve her or if some higher-being fucked up and put this angel in his path by accident but he's done questioning him. _

_She's his; now and forever or however long she'll have him. _

_And she's waiting for him, wanting so badly to please him. _

"_Bob your head," he instructs her, lifting a hand until it's resting on the back of her head, patiently teaching her and softly pushing her back and forth to ease her into a pace for his eventual thrusts. His free hand falls to the one on his stomach and he grabs onto her wrist, leading it down until she's cupping his balls and massaging them between her fingers. Daryl fights off the urge to just slam into her when her nails dip lower, scratching against the stretched and sensitive skin she finds there. _

"_When you feel me push in, suck as hard as you can," he pants at her, using both his hands to grab onto her hair now. "Pull back if you feel like ya can't breathe."_

_He thrusts forward, once, twice, before Beth coughs a little around him and starts breathing harshly. He stills, not wanting to push her beyond her limits or scare her, and it's fucking torture. It takes her a couple of seconds to get her body under control but once she does she's following his directions, moving her head in synch with his hips and sucking on him, being careful not to hurt him with her teeth. It's still mostly just the head that she's dealing with, because Daryl's being really fucking careful about how much he thinks she can handle, but then her eyes close and she starts humming deep in her throat and the vibrations rock through his core so viciously that he has to pull out of her before she's left with a mouthful of his cum._

_She's looking at him expectantly, waiting for his reaction, and all Daryl can do is pull her up to her feet so he can kiss her again. He shoves his tongue into her mouth and she still tastes strawberries and honey but overwhelming it all is the scent of him. Beth's breasts are rubbing against his chest and her hands are pushing his jeans down the remainder of the way. He grunts into their kiss and breaks away from it so he can pick her up, stopping only to kick his shoes off and step out of the clothes pooled around his ankles. Daryl carries her into his bedroom, hardness pressing low against her flat belly, half their clothing still discarded by the door. _

_He lays her down on the bed, sprawling himself on top of her so he can nibble and suck at her nipples in the way he knows she likes best, which is why he's surprised when both her hands land on his shoulders, pushing him away. "What's wrong?"_

"_I need you," she hastens to explain, hands finding the zipper of her own jeans and pulling it down. Her voice is shaky and broken, and her eyes are filled with a violent need to dominate or be dominated that he's never seen in them before. It's like she's been plucked out of balance, desperately searching for something to anchor her back into reality where she can regain her control. "Right now."_

_He recognizes that need; to be lost and swayed and taken until everything gets cleared out. She doesn't need a gentle and soothing touch at the moment, doesn't need sweet words whispered in her ear as he strokes her to completion or another affirmation of his obvious adoration for her._

_She needs to be fucked. _

_Hard and rough, until all she can feel is him and bliss._

"_Tell me what you want," he demands, helping her pull off her jeans and underwear, leaving her completely bare before him. "Gotta say it, if ya want it."_

"_I want you."_

_His fingers slide between her thighs, cupping her the same way she'd done to him and using his index to tangle with the wet curls guarding her sex. He pulls at them, lightly and with barely any force, but it's enough to have her crying out and his grin is smug when her moan is cut off and turns into a sharp gasp the moment his thumb presses down on her nub._

"_Want me like this?" he questions, mouth reattaching to her abandoned nipple as his thumb continues to press down, circling around her clit in different speeds. Her legs begin to tremble, and he can bet his ass that if he were to slip his fingers into her right now she'd cum on the spot. _

"_Yes, no," Beth pants, shaking her head and clawing at his back. Her eyes are snapped shut and her mouth is opened. She's covered in a sheen of sweat and looks positively ready to combust. "More."_

"_Say it, songbird," he prompts, easing the pressure off her clit before giving it a quick pinch. _

"_I need you inside of me," she groans, reaching for his cock between them and tugging at him until he's aligned with her. Tears of frustration and need begin to stream down her cheeks. She's practically sobbing for her impending release and it's everything he needs when she whispers out, "please, Daryl."_

_He slams into her, hard and unyielding, fingers still pressed to her sex and mouth sucking each of her small breasts into his mouth. A few more thrusts and she's coming undone underneath him, but Daryl doesn't give her a chance to come down from her high before continuing. He pulls out from her only long enough to flip her over, and now she's faced down on the bed while he kneels up behind her. He grabs onto her hips, pulling them up until they're leveled with his own and Beth barely has enough time to lock her elbows for balance before he's pushing back in. _

_Daryl doesn't give her any leeway. Doesn't give her a chance to think or speak as he works her body until all she can express is gasps and moans and groans of pleasure. It's basic and animalistic but it's something she needs and another side of Daryl that he'd never dreamed he'd be able to share with her. _

_She starts to tighten around him again, and Daryl places a hand on her lower back to keep her bent against the mattress when her spine begins to arch against him. "Give it up, girl."_

_She does. _

_Loudly and violently. Entire body shaking and with an uncharacteristically loud moan to go with it. His songbird was always so quiet during sex; all soft moan and groans and lows purrs that rumbled in her throat before she curled into him. She would pant in his ear or whisper what she needed from him, and while Daryl wouldn't trade those sounds for the world, it was good for his ego to know he could make her lose complete control. _

_He finishes soon after, emptying himself inside her and thank fuck for the birth control pills she was on. He'd never been one to mess around with his condoms and protection, but Beth had a way of making him lose him composure and had him acting like a horny schoolboy instead of a grown and experienced man. He didn't want her to suffer the consequences just because he screwed up, and they weren't ready for a baby. _

_Not yet, anyway. _

_Daryl's careful when he slides out, and he smiles when he notices that she is seconds away from falling asleep. He pulls her into his arms to get the bed sheet out from underneath her and tucks them both in. Beth curls up against him, sighing in contentment, and Daryl lets himself believe in peace before he follows her into sleep. _

…

"_Ain't ever gonna be complaining, but you wanna tell me what brought that on?"_

_A furious blush burns across Beth's cheeks, causing her to drop her gaze until it rests on her lap, fingers chipping away at the edges her blue nail polish. They're sitting on his bed, backs resting against the mountain of pillows she'd insisted he needed, even though he'd never felt the need to own more than one in his life, spooning at a carton of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream she'd decided she was craving even though it was nearing two o'clock in the morning. They were both halfway dressed, with Daryl pulling on a pair of sweats while Beth slipped back into her panties and one of his old and worn-down cotton shirts. _

_She was a mess. Her hair was pulled up into a sloppy bun that had a dozen wayward curls slipping and framing her face. Her lips were bright red and swollen from their kisses and her makeup was smeared around her eyes in deep black smudges. Her whole body was covered in a thin layer of dried sweat and the scent of sex clung to her skin without give. _

_Daryl knew he'd never seen anything sexier._

"_I dunno," she mumbles, barely understandable as she turns her head away from him and visibly attempts to shrink into herself. _

_It irks and bothers him, seeing her like this, because in all the time they've spent together she'd never acted this way. Sure, she could be shy and reserved at times, but for the most part Beth had always been bright and brave and bold; calling him out on his bullshit and going after whatever she wanted without holding back. To watch her suddenly turn into this squeamish girl who seemed to be embarrassed and mortified by what they'd just done had all sorts of things racing through his mind, primarily the fear that he'd been too rough and hurt or scared her somehow. _

"_Don't 'I dunno' me, girl," he tells her, imitating her mumbled response before taking her hands between his and pressing a soft kiss to her fingertips. "You and me agreed, back when this started, that you'd tell me if ya didn't like something we did. I gotta be able to trust ya to keep your word. It's the only way this works, songbird." _

_Surprise blooms on her face. "No, Daryl," she shakes her head, squeezing his fingers between hers and sitting up until she's kneeling in front of him. "It's nothing like that, it's just that, well, like, it's just, you know-"_

"_Say it."_

"_I really liked it," she rushes out, closing her eyes and scrunching her eyebrows together until they're furrowed in the center of her forehead. She lifts one of her eyelids, peaking at him and chewing down on her bottom lip before opening the other one. "I never thought I would want and like something like that."_

_Realization hits him like a blow to the back of his head, and he curses himself for not figuring it out sooner. Of course she was bound to have doubts about sex; she'd been innocent and a virgin until she started seeing him. Not only that, but she'd been raised in a small town with a highly religious family who he was sure believed in abstinence until marriage and expected as much from their youngest member. Their relationship had been a secret up until two weeks ago and Daryl had no doubt that she'd never mentioned any part of it to a single soul. _

_Sometimes he forgot how young she really was. _

_He should have tried to coax her into telling him what she was feeling, instead of expecting her to already have all the answers. He wasn't used to relationships or talking about feelings but she deserved that and he owed it to her, even if it made him uncomfortable as all hell. _

_He untangles one of his hands from her grip, lifting it until it's cupping her cheek. He spreads his fingers until they're stroking underneath her ear, and she melts into his touch and lets out a little sigh of contentment. He waits until her shy eyes are set on him, dropping his tone so it's comforting and reassuring. "You ain't never gotta be embarrassed of doing somethin' that makes you feel good, ya hear?"_

"_It's not so much that I'm embarrassed. It's just that, like, I had my mouth on you and I basically attacked you," she tries to explain, flustered and blushing at the memory of earlier in their night, but then guilt flashes across her pretty blue eyes and a little bit more of the puzzle falls into place. "And after, it didn't feel like making love, or even just having sex; it felt like I was only using you to get an urge met."_

_Beth falls back into her hunches, leaning away from him. Daryl pushes at the bed sheets until he's free from their entanglement around his legs, standing up beside the bed. "Com'ere," he signals, using two fingers to motion her to him and opening his arms wide in invitation. _

_Her answer is a timid smile, but she obediently shuffles across the bed until she's kneeling in front of him and their heights rival. He pulls her body into his, one hand pressed to the small of her back, keeping her close while his other hand slipped under the material of her shirt and trailed up and down the path of her spine; across her shoulder blades before coming back down to dip into the curves underneath her breasts, no attempts to get her naked or have her reciprocate. _

_Gentle and calming. _

_Reassuring and tender._

_Loving. _

_Everything that'd been missing from their previous encounter, but was always present in his heart when he was with her. He grins and his lungs inflate with unfiltered satisfaction when she finally relaxes, placing both her hands on his chest and snuggling into his embrace until her nose is tucked into the crook of his neck, temple resting on his shoulder. Daryl's hands slide down her ass, lifting her up and away from the bed. Her legs clutch around his waist, bodies lining up with comfortable familiarity and holding tight with utter trust and confidence. _

_He turns around and carries her out of his room and away from his bed, away from what he knows she sees as the biggest representation of sex between them, not stopping until they reach the sofa in the living room. All the lights are off except for a single lamp in the corner of the room and the soft glow makes her pale and creamy skin look like it's made out of gold. This time when he sits down she's on his lap and completely wrapped up in him and he can feel her deep breaths against his collarbone. _

"_I really, really, love you."_

_He murmurs in acknowledgement, rubbing soothing circles on her back and waiting until she falls asleep again. _

_One of these days, he'd find the guts to tell her the same. _

…

"Mama always did love taking pictures."

Beth looks up from the old photo album she'd been skimping through, surprised to find her sister standing a few feet away from her. She'd been sitting on the hammock in the porch for the last half hour, reminiscing about happier times and she guesses she must have been too engrossed in her memories to hear the soft squeak of the screen door being opened or the creak of strained wood as Maggie stepped outside.

It's a beautiful night, chilly, but peaceful. Beth can hear the horses sleeping and occasionally neighing in the barn and the cicadas chirp as loudly and beautifully as she remembers. The sky is clean and full of stars that one can never see in Savanna, much less New York, and she would be the first to admit that camping in the outdoors with her family was one of the things she missed the most.

"She did," Beth agrees, trying not to let her mouth gap open when Maggie crosses the porch and takes a seat beside her. She's wearing a maroon knit sweater, similar to the white one Beth was wearing and she can't help but think that they've always been a mismatched set; as similar as they were different. She wiggles until she's comfortable, then pulls the album away from her and settles it down right between them.

"That one used to be my favorite of yours," she declares, pointing to the picture on left-hand corner of the page with the caption 'her first day' written in her mother's soft and elegant script underneath it.

She stares at the reflection of her younger self, back when she was five years old and just starting kindergarten. Remembers her momma letting her wear her favorite lilac princess dress with her hot-pink boots if she promised she'd be brave and not cry at school and tried to make friends. She remembers how much she'd complained that morning as her mother weaved the wild mess that's always been her hair into a French braid. Beth remembers how happy she'd been when she saw her waiting for her as soon as her day ended, right after noon, and taken her for ice cream while they waited the extra time for Maggie's school to let out.

It was the best feeling in the world; having the arms of the person you love most in the world wrapped around you, holding you tight and protecting you from all harm. Filling you up with warmth and unconditional understanding and making you feel strong when you're feeling scared. Constant reassurances that you are brave and intelligent and can do anything you set your mind to.

She misses her.

Badly. Frantically. Desperately.

It's been seven years and there's still not a single thing she wouldn't do for the chance to have her mother hold her tight and whisper in her ear that everything was going to be alright.

Beth wishes she could tell her sister all these things. Wishes she could look her in the eyes and tell her what she feels and how heartbroken she's been and maybe still is. Wishes Maggie would do the same; hold her hand and tell her she understands because she'd been through it, too, and maybe they'd cry for a while but then the flood would finally be broken and once all the water sloshed away they'd find the peace hidden underneath.

Yeah, and if wishes were fishes we'd all be throwing nets.

Instead, she deflects. "You just like it 'cause you can see that I was missing my front teeth."

"Well, that's true, too," Maggie laughs, leaning her head down so it's on her shoulder. She takes a deep breath, and Beth can picture her closing her eyes. "I'm sorry about earlier. I know stormin' in ain't exactly the best way to make a first impression."

Beth stiffens, closing the album on their lap and moving it away until its safe on the railing. "What was that even about? You just blew past us locked yourself away until right now."

"I know."

"I hadn't seen you in over a year."

"I know."

"We came all the way down here to be with y'all and nobody except Daddy was here."

"I know."

"Then why the hell did you do that?" Beth finally snaps, tearing herself away from her sister. "I love you and I wanted to see you and introduce you and all I got was a door slammed in my face and Glenn asking me to understand and not be mad."

Maggie has the courtesy of looking ashamed, and she pushes her shoulder-length hair away from her face before turning back to her sister. "I didn't think I could have a conversation with you without mentioning him at that particular moment."

Beth stills, narrowing her eyes in disbelief. It's her day back and she's tired of his memory being brought up at every turn. If she wanted to talk about him, she'd be the one to mention him. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"People still talk about you two, ya know?"

"It doesn't matter: I'm with Pete now and I'm happy."

"I know that," Maggie defends herself, letting out an exasperated groan. Her gaze drops to the floor, staring at a crack on a piece of wood her Daddy had been meaning to get to for the past eight years. "I'm not your enemy, Beth. It's just that we went to the market and some ladies heard me talking about you being back with Patricia and Tara and they started butting in and making sly comments about you finally being back after running away because you ruined your reputation with _him_."

"He ain't the boogeyman, Maggie," Beth chides her, staring at her through slanted eyes and curled up fists. "He isn't gonna pop up and hurt me just because you say his name. I grew up and I'm over it."

Beth gets it; really, she does.

They were from a small town where everybody knew each other. She'd grown up being sweet and innocent until she was sixteen and stopped being the farmer's daughter to turn into the girl with a scarred wrist and a dead mother. Then when she'd turned eighteen that label had been switched for that of an easy harlot that slept with a man twice her age with a criminal reputation. Some said she needed guidance before being a lost cause, others said she needed Jesus; Beth didn't stick around for them to make up their mind.

Now they knew she was back and they were all dying to see what joke she'd made of her life.

"Yeah, you say that, but it doesn't change the fact that this is the first time in five years that anyone's been able to get you down here. If it isn't him, then what the heck's been keepin' you away? What are you running from that you were so afraid to come back home?"

It's a low blow, and it feels worse than if her sister had decided to slap across the face. All the anger and resentment she's worked so hard to dismiss or keep bottled in simmers, and Beth is done letting people pretend like they've got any right to judge her.

"You're the last person that can talk to me about running away."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean! I needed you and you ran away with a boy you'd barely started dating instead of staying with me!"

"It wasn't just a random guy," the older Greene argues, lifting her left hand so her ring glimmers under the porch light. "It was Glenn and I married him and I have a family with him now."

"It's not the point," she groans, half-wondering how nobody has heard their argument or bothered to come outside to check on the sisters. "He's a good guy, I know that, but I was your sister. I loved you and I was alone and you left me and never looked back."

"You were gonna do the same thing," she accuses her, flustered and angry and rising her voice to yell over her sister's. "Don't tell me you wouldn't have run off with Daryl Dixon if he hadn't turned out to be an asshole that was just using you, like we all told you."

Maggie freezes, confusion crossing her features like she can't believe the words came from her, eyes darting around the porch and looking for an imaginary culprit.

"No, wait, Bethy, I'm sorry," she apologizes, reaching for her but Beth's already off the hammock and stepping away from her. She feels like there's something clogging up her throat, keeping her from breathing and forcing her eyes to burn from the exertion. The stupid fucking box in her chest breaks open, and every memory of him comes rushing forward until she's swaying on her feet. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, you did," Beth forces out, somehow finding her voice as she struggles to shove it all back into the box that refused to hold up. "It's what every single one of you thinks about me since you found out you were right and I was oh, so, stupid and wrong."

"Bethy…"

"Goodnight, Maggie."

Her sister just nods, knowing when it was time to give up and turning away from her at the same time that Beth steps back into the house. She walks up the stairs, thankful that everyone seemed to be distracted and failed to notice her. Once she reaches her room she locks the door behind her, slipping underneath the covers and curling into the warmth that Pete provides. He's already asleep, and she's glad for the opportunity to compose herself before facing him in the morning.

Except that, for the first time in a long time, it's not enough.

His gentle and soft touch as she cuddles with him can't compete with the memories of bruising fingers on her hips. His soft snores sound like bullhorns in comparison to the barely audible deep breaths that used to rumble out of a hard and solid chest. When she wraps her arms around him, his back is smooth and muscled, free of any faults or stains, where her fingers used to revel in the contours of every single scar and tattoo, hoping to discover the stories beneath them.

And why the fuck should that matter, she scolds herself.

Daryl Dixon wasn't here anymore. He was gone; a bad memory that should have been erased long ago instead of being locked away and given the time it needed to fester and poison her.

Maybe her family was onto something, and she really was insane.

…

"What do you mean you're leaving?"

They've only been at the farm for three days, and Beth couldn't wait for the rest to be over. Maggie'd been avoiding her since their argument on the porch their first night back in the farm, and so was Glenn, out of solidarity with his wife. He would smile at her and he'd hang out with Pete but he wouldn't hold an actual conversation with her, and Beth was okay with it. In comparison, Tara had been trying to get to know her and she'd bring Michael with her to spend some much needed quality time with his blonde aunt.

Her Daddy and Otis spent the majority of their time out in the yard, bonding with the men in their daughter's life and telling them stories of the wild Greene's when they'd been young and crazy and happy. Everybody liked Pete, just like Beth knew they would, and he'd fit right into their lives. Nobody mentioned that he was older than her, or that he still wasn't the oldest man she'd loved in her young life.

Daryl Dixon was a name banned from this property.

Patricia, bless her soul, was a godsend.

Out of everybody, Beth missed her the most. Patricia had always stood by her side and continued to do so, even after all the bad decisions she'd made. She would never take her mother's place in her heart, but she'd been an excellent surrogate and Beth knew she was lucky to have her. Which was why, when Patricia quietly asked her if she'd sing at her wedding reception, Beth only smiled and agreed without hesitating. She'd sing all night if that's what they wanted, never mind that it'd been years since she's performed for an audience.

She could do it.

The ceremony was only a week away and she had Pete to keep her sane. Once it was over, maybe they could go home a little bit earlier than planned and everything would be done and her obligations fulfilled.

But he was leaving now.

He cringes at her shrill tone, pausing in his packing and tilting his head to meet her angry gaze, standing with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. "I'm sorry; you know I wouldn't leave unless it was an emergency, but Mitch got himself into a world of trouble and I need to get back to try and smooth this over."

"You promised you'd be here with me."

"I know, and I'm so sorry," he apologizes, again. Beth was getting really sick and tired of people telling her they were sorry. "But my mother is losing her mind over this and the press knows about it and I have to fix it. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You're going to miss the wedding," she accuses him, knowing she was being irrational and transferring her anger out of her entire situation to him, but being unable to stop herself. Damn it, he was supposed to be the constant solid in her life, her rock, and he was leaving her right when she needed him the most.

Even if he had no clue about it because she couldn't get her shit straight and just tell him the truth.

"No," he shakes his head, rounding the bed so he's standing in front of her. He grabs onto her hands, pulling her into a hug before leaning down to press their temples together. "I promise you I will be here for it, and we're gonna dance all night and I'm gonna gloat while everyone listens to your pretty voice singing."

She doesn't budge yet, turning her face away from him.

"Don't be mad at me," he pleads, tilting her chin up to press a chaste kiss against her lips. "You know if I could I would stay."

"I'm not mad," she mutters, finally relenting and admitting it wasn't as bad as she was making it out to be. He'd be back soon; she knew he would. "Just disappointed."

"I'm sorry."

"Mitch is an idiot," Beth pouts, crossing her arms below her chest and flopping down on the bed. "But I hope he's okay."

Pete smiles, fully aware that he was forgiven. "I know, and me too."

She spends the next twenty minutes helping him pack his carry-on bag. He was leaving the rest of his clothes since he would need those once he returned, and there was no point in him dragging them back and forth. He was driving back instead of flying, and after a bunch of deliberations that Beth thought were hugely unnecessary, they'd agree that he'd take the Mercedes with him but they'd stop and rent another car in town for her to use before he left, per his request.

He said goodbye to her family, briefly explaining the situation and promising Patricia he'd be back in time for the wedding and Otis that he'd try and make it to the fishing trip he was organizing two days before then. He shook her Daddy's hand and thanked him for his hospitality, and bid goodbye to Maggie and her family. Pete held her hand the entire ride into town, holding her close when they pulled up to the tiny rental shop and picked out a car for her to use while he was gone.

And then he was off, driving back to Savannah and leaving her to deal with her family, alone.

Too bad neither of them noticed the older man with a receding hairline staring at them from inside a diner across the street, rubbing his chin and grinning like a madman as he recognized the pale girl with golden hair his baby brother had tried so hard to keep a secret.

…

**AN: Hey guys!**

**Sorry for the delay, this week was truly a mess but updates should be coming sooner again. I'm really glad you guys are liking this story, and look! I got rid of Pete already. **

**Shout out to Katie for teaching me her tumblr ways and fangirling with me even though I'm super lame. Ha!**

**Next up: It seems that I've finally found our beautiful Dixons.**

**Don't forget to review! Feedback is always appreciated!**

**-Ashley **


	5. Chapter 5

"_In came the girl with the saddened eyes_

_And asked him over again and again_

'_Was I too weak? Was I a child?'_

_And 'can't we leave here and start again?'_

_And 'I love you.'"_

-PJ Harvey

…

_She used to fantasize about her wedding. _

_Beth doesn't know how many days she'd spent obsessing over every last detail, lost in the typical little girl's daydream. _

_Her momma's veil would be her 'something borrowed' and the sapphire heart pendant her grandma Mae inherited her would be her 'something blue' and the simple silver bracelet Maggie'd gifted her for her thirteenth birthday would be her 'something old'. Patricia had pulled her aside once and promised she had the perfect accessory to gift her for the 'something new' component, and while Beth had no clue what it could be, she knew the kind woman would never disappoint. She'd carry a piece of the women who meant the most to her, the tough and kind and passionate women who'd helped shape her, on the most important day of her life._

_The ceremony would take place in the little town church in Senoia were her own parents had gotten married. Her daddy would look dapper in his new tux as he took her hand in his and walked her down the aisle and her momma would cry from her own spot in the front row as she watched her youngest child swear an oath to love a man until the end of time. Shawn would sit beside their mother, who would flick the back of his head when she caught him trying to flirt with the other bridesmaids instead of paying attention to the ceremony. Her sister would stand by the altar as her maid of honor, wearing a lilac dress and holding a small bouquet of white and pink calla lilies as her groom waited patiently for her to arrive._

_She could never pinpoint exactly what he would look like, but she knew what she wanted._

_Her future husband would stand tall and proud. He'd be handsome and loving, with a kind smile always present on his face. Ideally, he'd belong to a good family and he'd buy them a nice home where they'd one day raise their own children. More importantly, he would always encourage and respect her decisions. He would not belittle her or treat her like a child. He would appreciate her the way every living being deserved and he would never even think of laying a finger on her. He would know how to play the guitar and she'd sing and write songs and they'd be surrounded by music and love. _

_Her life would be perfect._

…

_She doesn't factor in accidents and the echoing emptiness._

_Never even stops to consider that maybe her mother, the single person she loved most in the world, would be ripped out of her life right after she'd turned sixteen. Can't even begin to picture a world in which her older brother, who was bright and witty and charming – the perfect embodiment of a 'golden boy' in a small town – being taken away at the same time. Doesn't think that maybe her sister would be gone soon after or that her father would focus on his faith at right about the same time that she lost hers._

_Beth never, even in her wildest dreams, ponders the possibility of falling for a surly redneck with an infamous reputation that doubled her age. _

_But she does._

_Oh, God, she does. _

…

_She must be crazy. _

_Beth knows what she's doing is technically insane. She's only known this man, because there's nothing else he could be labeled as, for a little over two months but she feels deep in her heart that he's the person she's supposed to be with. It doesn't matter that he's older and hardened and that the majority of the people in town look at him like he's a menace to society. It doesn't matter that his family history is filled with vicious blotches or that he doesn't have a whole lot of money or that people will never stop judging and gossiping about them._

_Because she knows him._

_She knows that underneath the brusque exterior he's one of the best people she's ever met. She knows that he can be kind and loving and self-less. He's strong and he's brave and loyal to a fault. Daryl listens to all her rambles and musings and even though she's sure he thinks she's lost it with some of her observations he never demeans her or makes her feel like she's just a stupid girl. He looks at her like she's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen and when he touches her he's always tender and gentle; reverent, even._

_With Daryl she experiences a freedom and passion that she'd never felt before. He makes her feel like she's flowing away and being anchored at the same time: alive. He is solid and experienced where she is soft and innocent, but the result is a perfect balance that allowed him to guide her into discovering and accepting her own needs and sexuality. His seriousness and care gave her the boost of confidence she'd needed to explore and thrive on the parts of herself that had lain dormant for so long she'd nearly forgotten how they felt._

_A blush spreads across her cheeks as she remembers their last encounter and how he'd taken control of her body, bending her over on his mattress and pinning her down as he slammed into her after she'd taken him in her mouth for the first time. _

_She'd been so upset that night; tired of her family spitting accusations about her lover and of her father keeping her holed up in the farm like a little girl. They didn't know Daryl the way she did and were judging him based only on rumors and word of mouth. Beth knows that if they would only give him half a chance they'd see what an amazing man he really was. They needed time to get to know him, but it would take something drastic for her family to start seeing sense._

_Which is why she'd packed a duffel bag the previous night, throwing in enough clothes for a couple of days and all the mementos that held the most meaning to her. The majority were pictures and a couple of frames; her toothbrush and the plaid shirt she'd borrowed from him on a particularly memorable night in which her own blouse had been torn. The journal where she wrote down her songs was in there, too, as well as the porcelain jewelry box with the hand-painted swans on the front and the golden latch her mother once gifted her when she was just a little girl._

_Beth had been waiting for the chance to slip off the farm the entire week, and the perfect opportunity presented itself when her father was asked to attend as a guest speaker at veterinary conference in Atlanta. Her sister was set to return to work at the firm, as well, having suddenly left with half-muttered explanations about going back home to try and talk some sense into her little sister. They'd both parted together right after sunrise, with Otis and Patricia left in charge of watching after the wayward blonde. It'd taken a lot of begging and pleading from her part, but the older woman finally relented and allowed Beth to leave, handing over the keys to her truck and the opportunity to find freedom and love._

_And now she was standing in front of his door while the sun began to set, holding a half-empty bag and with nothing to offer but her heart and soul, waiting for him to welcome her home. _

_The door opens before she can even pull out the key he'd given her or knock, and then Daryl is staring her down and glaring through slanted eyes. _

"_What are ya doin' here?"_

_Beth's taken aback by the bluntness of his voice, but decides to shake it off. He's never been one to mince words and she doesn't have a reason to be worried about him being upset with her. For all she knows he's had a bad day, and so she smiles at him and says, "I'm here to stay."_

"_What the fuck are you talkin' about?" he demands, gaze tracing over her only to land on the black bag resting by her feet before grabbing onto her wrist and pulling her into his home. The door slams shut and he takes a step back from her. He looks angrier than she's ever seen him, but it doesn't scare her because he's never given her a reason to fear him._

"_If I stay there they'll never let us be together," she tries to explain, scrunching her nose as it's hit with the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and whisky. "I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and that life starts right now."_

"_You shouldn't have done that," he grunts, clenching his fists and looking away from her. His hair is dirty and his clothes are wrinkled like he hasn't changed them in the past couple of days and Beth wonders how much he's had to drink since she's been gone. She doesn't recognize this side of him; angry and bitter and unrelenting. "You ain't got no business making decisions for me, and I sure as hell don't remember asking ya to move in."_

_The words hit her like a bullet in the back._

"_Daryl?" she questions him, voice trembling as she tries to move closer to him. He lifts up his hands to halt her steps, and when she blinks her eyes she realizes that they're watering and tears are threatening to spill. _

_Daryl must have noticed them, too, because he shakes his head and moves even farther away from her. He grabs for the abandoned bottle of Jack resting on the coffee table, taking a swig before speaking to her again. "Nah, don't even start with them sad eyes and tears; I never promised ya shit."_

"_Why are you being like this?" she whispers, leaning against the door for physical support. She feels like she's in a nightmare and no matter how hard she pinches herself it will never end. This isn't the man she loves, but it's the one she's facing right now._

"_Like what?" he retorts, and his tone drops to a drawl. Whatever he's about to say, she's willing to bet her soul that it's been designed to hurt her in the most intimate way he can think of. "Like a fucking grown-ass man that's been done putting up with all your drama and little girl fantasies?"_

_Look at that, she was right. _

_Beth curls her fingers into fists, not even bothering to try and stop the tear tracks that burn as they run down her cheeks. "You don't mean that," she shakes her head, pushing against his hold until she's shoving at his shoulders. "You can't treat somebody the way you've been treatin' me all this time and then just decide to change your mind!"_

_Daryl grabs onto her wrists, pulling her close enough to feel his harsh breath fanning the side of her temple. "Jesus Christ, girl," he scoffs, staring at her with an emotion that's somewhere between confusion and disgust. "You think what we did was me taking care of ya? Just 'cause I made sure you'd cum, too, don't mean I was interested in forever; was just me showin' a lil' common curtesy after ya went and offered yourself up to me like that."_

_She snaps her eyes shut at the crude remarks, refusing to open them until he can promise her that he's done with whatever sick game he must be playing. "Why are you doing this, Daryl? Why would you tell me something like that? What happened that made you change your mind?"_

"_I was gonna break it to ya gently, give you a chance to settle down and even put up with the crying and all that shit," he offers as an explanation, and she hates the grin that forms on the corner of his lips. "Then you drop in outta nowhere claiming you're gonna start living here. Figured ya'd need to hear the whole truth if I was gonna get ya to understand." _

"_You're lying," she breathes out, staring at him with all the conviction that's left in her heart. Her voice breaks as she speaks but Beth is determined to get everything out and fight for him. She doesn't know what caused this, but she won't let it go without trying her best to prove him wrong. "You can't fake the way you looked at me. You can't pretend to care about someone the way I know you care about me; the way I know you love me."_

_Daryl lets go of her hands, turning away from her as if he couldn't stand to even look at her any longer. "I ain't never loved no one in my life, ain't about to start with you."_

_Beth presses herself against his back, wrapping her thin arms around his waist and locking them together. "I love you, Daryl. I love you with everything that I've got," she swears, lowering her head so that her temples rest on his broad shoulders and holding on tight when he tenses under her touch. _

"_What ya want from me, girl?" he demands, tearing himself away from her with a force that almost makes her fall on her behind. He rotates so that he's facing her again and the fury she sees reflected on his face, his disbelief over her perseverance and disposition, is enough to ignite her own. _

"_I want you to stop pretending like you don't care, like nothing we went through matters to you!"_

"_Ya didn't mean a thing to me."_

"_That's bullshit!"_

"_That what ya think?"_

"_That's what I know."_

"_You don't know nothin'," he taunts, and the little sardonic laugh that crawls its way out of his lips is enough to leave her feeling frozen in place as she waits for the next figurative blow. "Jesus, we fuck around for a few weeks and it's like ya think that means I gotta shack up with ya. It was fun, sweetheart, but it's done now."_

"_Don't say that," she demands, running the sleeve of her shirt against her face to clear away the tears that make her vision blurry and pleading out a pathetic, "stop."_

"_Then stop acting like some dumb bitch and get the fucking message. I ain't never gonna marry you. I don't wanna have no damn kids with ya." _

_There's a brief pause, a moment between his cruel words and she hopes against hope that this glimmer of time will be the one in which he regains his senses and realizes how much hurt he's causing her. She wishes and hopes and prays that the man she loves will return and vanish this intruder who has his face but not his compassion and soul._

"_Fuck, ya best believe the day I have a fucking brat it ain't gonna be with some little girl who's still crying over her dead momma and slits her wrists for attention. Do us both a favor and fly the fuck out of this town, songbird."_

_That's the end of it all. _

_It's too much._

_His words are brutal and spiteful and ruthless and they run through her like poison being pumped into her trembling body. She feels violated and betrayed and confused over how this man could take all her darkest secrets, the memories and regrets she'd whispered to him in confidence, and coil them into a weapon on a whim. Everything ceases to matter and Beth doesn't care anymore. _

_She thinks she catches a flash of regret on his face at her obvious heartbreak, but it doesn't matter. _

_She's done. _

_It wouldn't make a difference if he decided to tell her his reason and motivations for acting the way he just had. For the first time since she met him she doesn't want to hear a single word from him. No reasons or excuses or pretenses are left for her to understand. _

_Beth clears her throat, tucking her disheveled hair into place and trying her best to clean her face. She takes a deep breath that seeps right through her bones, gathering as much dignity as she can muster before slowly turning around and promising herself she'd never come back. _

_She picks up her discarded bag and is halfway out the door when she stops for a second. Beth looks over her shoulder, watches as the only man she's ever been in love with breaks her heart for the second time in her life. _

"_You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon."_

_Then she steps outside and the door slams shut._

…

_Beth doesn't cry during the drive back to the farm. _

_She'd already cried all the tears she had for him, back in his home and in front of his face for him to relish in. Years of promising herself she'd never let anyone get so close are thrown out the window and she wants to scream until her lungs burn and her throat is sore. Beth wants to hit something or run until her body is exhausted and depleted and she can fall into the deepest sleep she's ever experienced. _

_Anything; she'd take anything that even hinted at distracting her from the dull throb she can't get rid of. _

_A quick glance at her phone and she realizes that it's only 6:23 in the afternoon. She hadn't even spent twenty whole minutes in his home. An entire lifetime of dreams and hopes and aspirations, turned to dust in less time than the length of an episode of Spongebob Squarepants. _

_She explodes into a hysterical fit of giggles at the comparison. Out of everything in the world she could have possibly thought of, a stupid show about a talking sponge that lived in a pineapple is what her mind produces. No wonder Daryl'd decided he was done with her, her brain was about to call it quits on her, too. _

_A stop sign comes into view and Beth takes the moment to stare at her duffel bag, open and taunting on the seat beside her. _

_She thinks about setting it all on fire. _

_Thinks about taking out everything that reminded her of him and setting it ablaze on one of the campfire pits in her backyard. Thinks about standing there and waiting until every memory of him is turned to ashes right before her eyes. Thinks about doing that and finally being able to breathe. _

_Except, it'd be useless, because he's everywhere. _

_Daryl fucking Dixon is everywhere. _

_He's in the violet bruises on her hips where his fingers held on too tightly. He's in the ache and soreness that persists between her thighs where he'd pushed into her repeatedly, filling her body and taking everything she had to give. He's in the burn she feels across her clavicle where his scruff had scratched against her skin and he's in the strawberry-tinted marks surrounding her chest where his teeth had dug down and nipped._

_He's in the scent of leather and the taste of smoke. _

_He's in the amber of whisky and the black of oil and the blue of sapphire eyes._

_He's in the roar of engines and the low rumbles of a man's baritone._

_He's clawed and buried in her soul._

_She pulls into the farm, thankful for the small miracle that was her not crashing into another car or into their home. Patricia rushes out, surprised at seeing her back already. Beth steps out of the truck, and the look of absolute concern on the older woman's face is enough to bring back the tears in full force. She runs towards her, wrapping her arms around her confidant and letting the woman comfort her the way only a mother can._

"_He didn't want me, Patty."_

"_Oh, baby girl," Patricia sighs, leading her inside and straight up to her room. She guides her to the bed and sits down beside her, motioning for her to lay her head on her lap. Beth obliges, desperate for the affection as she waits for the soothing touch to run through her hair and melt away her fears just like when she was a little girl and her momma and daddy were away. _

"_I went over to tell him I wanted to move in and live with him and he said I was stupid and that he'd never promised me anything."_

"_Bethy," Patricia tries to intervene, halting her hands as Beth shuffles until she can look at the woman straight in the eyes. _

"_And he was right!" she cried out, fighting off the hysteria that's threatening to creep back in. "He never promised me anything. I thought he was this great love of mine but he never said he loved me or anything like that. I thought that he just needed time to open up but he never planned to and I'm such an idiot."_

"_You're not an idiot, sweetheart; you just fell in love and made a mistake."_

"_Not like this," she argues, turning her gaze away in hopes of avoiding the disappointment she's sure she'll find in Patricia's face. "I gave him everything, I basically offered myself up to him right after we met, and he just threw it back in my face."_

_The older woman releases a heavy sigh, "I know you don't want to hear this, but maybe it's for the best. Now you know that there was no future with him, and you can move on and focus on yourself and the things that make you happy again." _

_Beth wishes she could. _

_Wishes there was some magical way her heartbreak could be taken away, but she's had enough experience with it to know that it never truly does. You just have to wait it out and hope that your heart is strong enough to make extra space for somebody else to eventually come in. _

"_I feel like there's something pressing down on my chest and it doesn't matter how hard I try because I can't breathe," she tries to explain. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up at any moment and it sounds like me being overdramatic but I swear that my heart hurts, Patty. It hurts so much and I just feel cold."_

"_I know, Bethy. I know."_

_They don't say anything else for a long time._

_Later, when Beth's finally managed to get a grip on her tears and sobs have settled into a steady stream of low moans and whimpers, Patricia reminds her of a little gift she had tucked away under lock and key in one of her desk's drawers. Something that could now be turn into a blessing or a curse. _

"_Sweetheart, maybe the best thing you can do right now is take the opportunity you've been given," she suggests. _

"_You want me to run away from this?" Beth questions her, scrunching her eyebrows together in confusion and wincing at the pain her swollen eyes cause on her face. "All you've ever taught me is how to face my fears and to always keep my chin up. Do you think I won't be able to get over this?"_

"_No, Bethy," Patricia clarifies, clearing her throat and holding her hands between her own. "I love you and in my book you are my daughter and the last thing I want is to lose you, but I know that the last thing you need is to be here right now. _

"_Take the scholarship, honey. You worked so hard for it and you earned it." _

"_But-" Beth begins to argue before being cut off. _

"_None of that: take it and get the clean break you deserve and don't you come back here until you feel truly happy and free."_

_She listens, because (almost) mother knows best._

_Right?_

…

_New York is everything and nothing like she'd imagined. _

_Her roommate is named Haley and she's a sweet girl from Tennessee. She's majoring in history and always talks about how she'd spent her entire childhood out camping and training with her brother and father. Haley's mom passed away when she was a little girl, and Beth is quick to befriend her and lend her support. They're both new to this city and they were both raised in small towns, so it was nice to have somebody to talk to who could understand the struggle to adapt. _

_Beth tries her best to smile and silently breathe through it when Haley gushes about the Olympics and offers to teach her how to use a bow._

_It's not the girl's fault that she can't stand to be around anything that reminds her of ex-lover._

_It's been about a month since she's seen Daryl and two weeks since she moved into her dorm when Beth forces herself to stop wallowing and go out. She puts her hair up into a bun and pulls on an old gray sweater that once belonged to Shawn, grabs her keys and her purse and then she's out the door. Baby steps, Beth reminds herself, forcing her legs to move off campus and into the shopping and music district. It's beautiful and it's dirty and a thousand other contradictions that both fail and exceed all her expectations. She buys a beaten-up keyboard with the money her daddy stuffed into her bag, despite her protests, and decides to send him a postcard to show her gratitude._

_Daryl might have taken a lot of things from her, but he did not take her music._

_Only her momma and brother, the people who were her flesh and blood, had unintentionally done that to her for a little while but she'd gone back to singing the minute her mind realized that her family would have never wished for her to lose her music._

_She walks into a random convenience store in search of postcards and hair conditioner. The first ones are easy enough to spot, a huge rack placed right next to the entrance, and she picks out a couple to mail to the the farm and to her sister and Glenn in Atlanta. _

_The second takes a little bit more effort, and it's not until she's making her way down the feminine hygiene isle that Beth gets a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she stares at the rows filled with pads and liners and tampons. She's been in New York for two weeks and she hadn't bothered to stock up on her products because her period hadn't arrived. She tries to remember her last cycle, and fear nearly cripples her as she realizes that she's running at least three weeks late._

_Oh, God. _

_Her eyes snap to the shelf across from the liners, spotting the various pregnancy tests stocked up into neat little towers. Her hand falters for a second but then she's grabbing three different kinds and dumping them all into her basket. She thinks she must look the way she feels, because the check-out girls gives her a sympathetic smile and wishes her luck as she walks out of the store. _

_And now she's sitting inside the stall of her dorm's restroom, watching the seconds click by as she waits for the five minutes the various tests required for a result. She is alone and she is terrified and she doesn't have a clue what in the world she's going to do if the results come back positive and she's immediately responsible for another tiny life. _

_No._

_No._

_She is not that girl._

_Beth is not the girl that sleeps around with older men she barely knows. She's not the girl who sleeps around, period. She is not the girl who gets pregnant when she's still technically a teenager. She is not the one who brings shame to her family name and lineage. Beth is the girl who plans and stresses out and over-achieves. She's the good girl who brings joy and pride and when did everything go so wrong?_

'_The day you met Daryl Dixon' her cynical side whispers._

_Her mind is bombarded with thoughts that scare her to death; she thinks about having to face her family if she'd somehow managed to get pregnant. Thinks about how she'd probably have to quit school and move back home. She thinks about what's sure to be her father's disappointment and Patricia's heartbreak and Maggie's anger. Beth thinks about having to show up at Daryl's door, swollen belly and news of his upcoming fatherhood. She thinks about not telling him, and never being able to go back home. _

_And in between her hysteria and panic she pictures a little boy with pale skin and chocolate-tinted hair. She can imagine big blue eyes and a cute little button nose and a wide smile that always melted into a grin. She can see him in her arms as he cuddles his cheek against hers and calls her 'mamma' and Beth's heart clenches and her throat swells with how much she wants it. A perfect little being that she could love and cherish without condition or reserve, and who would love her as much in return._

_She must be crazy, but she wants it._

_Her timer vibrates, and Beth grabs for the first one._

_The test comes back negative and she can't understand how that single line manages to steal what's left of her heart._

_The second and third one verify the same result. _

_She cries that night, too, and dumps the keyboard into the biggest trashcan she can find without giving it a second thought. _

_Daryl didn't take her music, but the baby boy her mind conceived sure as hell did._

…

_Beth finishes her freshman year near the top of her class. It's easy and she's got no distractions and nothing but time to study. Her daddy tells her that he's proud of her and her success and he explains he's disappointed she won't be coming home for the summer but that he understands. It's a big move, from New York down to Georgia, and she needs time to settle down before classes start up in the fall. _

_She'd put in her transfer request for Savannah State University the moment enrollment opened up for her sophomore year._

_She misses home; misses the heat and the forest and the colors and the fresh air, misses the clear skies and the small towns. Misses feeling like she belongs and fits in; misses knowing that her family was only a car ride away. _

_But she can't go home yet, and she'll live miserably in New York for the rest of her life before somebody tries to force her to live in Atlanta. She needs to be together, but separate. Close, but independent. Free to live her life and make her mistakes without having to worry about the rumors hitting the farm before day's end, but still having the option of running there for a warm embrace if the need ever became overwhelming. _

_Savannah is the perfect place; she just knows it. _

_The day after her Spring Semester finishes she gets onto a plane out of New York and she doesn't feel the tiniest need to look back. She's leaving all those broken dreams and lonely days behind. _

_This city could've never been hers, anyways. _

_It's a city meant for dreamers and she doesn't fit the bill. _

_..._

**AN: Huge apologies for the delay! It's been a crazy couple of weeks.**

**I really hope you guys like this one. I was originally planning to have the Dixons in this chapter but I decided to turn it into a long past tense so I can move the story along. Next chapter will explain what caused Daryl to break up with Beth and other surprises. **

**I'm actually really stoked to start writing Chapter 6 and on because now I get to have my fun! Sex and drugs and rock n' roll shall ensue. **

**Don't forget to review! **


	6. Chapter 6

"_It doesn't feel right_

_And it doesn't feel fair_

_When I'm planning to move on_

_And you're still standing there…_

_I'll ruin, yeah, I'll ruin you_

_I've been doing things I shouldn't do."_

-Marina & The Diamonds

…

Beth feels… unbalanced.

She's standing in the middle of a town she doesn't belong to anymore, holding a set of keys for a car that isn't really hers, watching as the only person she knows would do anything in the world for her drives back to his own family; a family she's well-aware will never really accept her and the damaged goods she represents.

She doesn't want to go back to the farm yet.

Doesn't want to go back to dealing Maggie's avoidance and Tara's insistence and Glenn's discomfort. Doesn't want to see Patricia's anxiety and Otis' confusion and her Daddy's worried glances. Doesn't want to go back and see for herself how her entire family still firmly believes that she bases her entire happiness on a man's affection and how they hold with baited breath for the moment she'll break down now that Pete's momentarily gone. Doesn't want to go back to feeling like she's lost and numb and seventeen.

But she doesn't want to be completely alone, either.

So she gets into the little black hybrid and drives aimlessly around town, passing by every building and establishment that constituted a side of her childhood she'd tried to keep out of her mind for half a decade.

It's easy to see how many changes have taken place: the park where her momma used to let her and Maggie play after school has been recently renovated and is filled with families enjoying the gorgeous day outside; the hair salon where they used to get all dolled up for special occasions was closed down and in its place is a new burger joint. Her heart lights up when the little café where she'd spent so much time and written so many songs comes into view and it's obvious that the small shop is still thriving, even on a late Monday morning when most people are still at school or work.

There's a huge part of her that wants to stop the car and go in there; wants to sit down in her old booth and order a hot chocolate with extra foam and cinnamon on top. She wonders if the sweet busboy that used to have a silly crush on her still works there and wishes she could just pull out her old journal and write down all her feelings or scribble down the lyrics to a song that flows into her mind like she used to when she was younger. She'd trade the whole world to be able to go back home and find her momma waiting for her, anxious to hear just what her little girl had come up with this time.

Which is exactly why she doesn't go in.

There are some places that are still sacred to her; places that still felt good and pure in her heart and belonged exclusively to the memory of her relationship with her mother. These are the places that she wants to keep that way; keep the hurt out of seeping through the cracks and lock away the joy inside a golden locket in her chest, like a treasure that would always fill her with little dozes of warmth and love whenever she's feeling particularly low and in need of a reassurance.

Beth doesn't stop driving until she hits the ice cream parlor owned by Carol Peletier.

Technically, she knows it's not a bright idea to even consider going in there. The woman was one of Daryl's best friends, essential playing an almost mothering and guiding role in his life, and she was sure once Carol knew she was in town it wouldn't be long before he did, too. Honestly, it was even possible and not too unlikely that the jerk could be inside. Every warning bell in her body is blaring at her to get away from there, to go back to the farm where she knows he would never dare step foot or to drive back to Savannah where she has her friends and life and love to keep her safe and hold her close.

And, she would; really, she _would_, if that's the kind of girl she was.

Except, she's not a girl anymore; she's a _woman_, and a strong one at that.

Beth refuses to live her life in fear; hiding from a man who shouldn't have a hold on her anymore.

So she pulls into an empty parking spot, grabs her large leather purse, and walks through those clear glass doors with her shoulders thrown back and her head held high. The high heels of her boots, tucked around one of her favorite pairs of jeans, click on the hardwood floor with every step she takes and the breeze from the air conditioner sends a chill through her when it hits her exposed shoulders. The cashier is a pretty teenage blonde with a "Lizzie" name tag clipped to her apron who compliments her on her outfit and recommends she orders their best sundae and a strawberry milkshake, something the older blonde gladly accepts.

Her nose crinkles when she realizes she can't even remember the last time she was out alone and gave herself a long enough break to just be on her own with her thoughts. Life in Savannah was fast-paced, especially when you had your own obligations to fill along with the expectations that came with dating an influential member of society. There were functions and benefits to go to and people to meet and make nice with and volunteering to help out with aside from the time that had to be invested into the romantic and private side of their relationship.

It could be exhausting and overwhelming, but Pete was more than worth it.

Plus, she reminds herself, he always made sure that they did plenty of things that she enjoyed and that she was feeling as included as possible. He was excellent at remembering little details and surprising her when she least expected it and doing his best to make sure she was always happy.

He was everything any girl could ever ask for.

Beth takes a seat on one of the empty tables near the back of the shop, grateful that there are only three more customers inside and casually studying the framed pictures on the walls and the vintage furniture. It looks like something straight out of the fifties; all charm and character with what she's sure will be delicious food to boost. The bright jukebox in the corner is playing one of her favorite Patsy Cline songs and she'd half tempted to join in. Lizzie's back with her order a few minutes later and Beth smiles and nods her thanks when she notices that the girl added a little heart-shaped brownie with whipped cream a cherry on the top.

She was right; the food was superb. Beth kind of wishes Carol was around so she could tell her as much, and then grins when she realizes the absurdity of the situation.

The bell by the door rings aloud, announcing the arrival of a new customer and she looks up to find an older man, easily in his early fifties but still looking solid and strong, wearing a white wife-beater over a red flannel shirt. His face is all sharp edges and pronounced features. First impressions let her know that he's dangerous and hardened and the gleam in his eyes doesn't settle well with her. There's something about this man that's a little bit too familiar; too close for comfort.

"Hey, which one of you dumbasses owns the black hybrid outside?"

His voice is deep rasp and his accent is southern; heavy from the use of alcohol and cigarettes and who knows what else. "It's mine," Beth pipes up, meeting his hard stare. "What's this about?"

"Car's leaking oil; there's a big ol' puddle underneath it; figured I'd do my good deed of the day and stop one of y'all from blowing it up to kingdom come."

"That's not possible," she shakes her head, lowering her spoon onto the barely-touched bowl and crossing her arms under her chest. She was assured the car was under excellent working conditions and her Otis had taught her enough about engines to know how to look and listen for the signs of a possible malfunction. "I just rented it a couple of hours ago."

"From where? The Governor's? Everyone knows cars from there are a piece of shit; should've just gone straight to Dale's if ya needed anything involving a car."

She flinches into herself, tearing her gaze away from his before she can stop it and Beth's sure it couldn't have lasted more than a second but somehow it's enough for his eagle eyes to zone in on it and a grin pulls at the corner of his lips.

"Less you got yourself a reason to avoid that garage," he suggests, tone smug and dripping sarcasm; like a man who knows he's got the upper hand and nothing she can say will ever change that outcome. He walks until he's right in front of her, dragging back a metal chair and dropping his weight onto it. "I saw that look in them big blue eyes, girl, you look like I just told ya to go 'round the devil's house askin' for a cup of sugar."

"We just stopped at the first place we saw," she retorts, trying her best to appear unaffected and nonchalant. He makes her uncomfortable, like an animal that's been cornered and isn't sure which way to run, but she isn't afraid of him. For all his pomp, it's easy to tell that he wouldn't hurt her or any other woman.

"Maybe," he smiles, wide enough to flash all his teeth. "But I could'a sworn ya just didn't wanna run into my baby brother with your new man, is all."

Oh.

Of course.

Beth'd never had the chance to meet Daryl's only brother but she'd heard enough stories to know he wasn't a very good man. Daryl had always spoken about him with a mixture of love and contempt. She knew he wasn't proud of the things he'd done, hated that his brother couldn't seem to get a grip on life and settle down for once, but at the end of the day Merle was still his kin and blood and he'd do anything to help him out.

She wasn't stupid either; Beth knew Daryl'd only given her glimpses of the very top layer of the complicated relationship the brothers shared but back then the small anecdotes and revelations felt more precious than gold to her. It'd meant that he was on his way to really trusting her and opening up about his past so they could build a future together. She'd taken it as an affirmation that he'd loved her.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She'll be damned if she lets another Dixon laugh in her face.

"You seem to know an awful lot about me, Merle; didn't know old men were into gossiping."

"Ouch!" he laughs, knocking twice on the table before holding both his hands up to his heart in mock hurt. "You wound me, Blondie. Actually, don't know much at all; Darla wasn't exactly forthcoming with information about your little romance, but I do know you left him heartbroken."

Beth scoffs, rolling her eyes and pushing her now ruined ice cream away. "Pretty hard to break something he doesn't have."

All that earns her is another loud laugh from Merle, who seems to be having the time of his life bothering her. "You're a feisty one, ain't ya? No wonder you had him so whipped, had no balls left when I found him, that boy."

"Whatever he was upset about, I can assure it wasn't me."

He arches an eyebrow, as if trying to decipher whether she was telling the truth or lying, jutting out his chin as he makes his decision. "Ya really don't know, do ya?"

"Know what?" Beth snaps, tired of his games.

"Why you think he sent ya away?"

It's an odd question, and the phrasing is even more confusing. Daryl hadn't sent her anywhere; he'd thrown her away like she was worthless, an old toy that could no longer entertain him. There'd been nothing cordial in his dismissal of her. "He made is perfectly clear he was done with me."

"Of course he did," Merle readily agrees, mockingly nodding his head in understanding before giving her a humorless grin. She's not sure why, but she thinks this might the first honest expression she's seen from him since he decided to barge into her life. "He's always been the sweet one, my baby brother. Never could stop himself from falling for a sob story."

"What are you talking about?" Beth demands, done with this conversation and the feelings of inaptitude that it reignited inside of her. "Can somebody, just for _once_, tell me what the hell is going on? Say whatever you have to say and then leave me alone."

"I know that someone from your family sought him out and told him to let ya go."

She shakes her head, shutting her eyes for a moment to clear her mind. "Please," she scoffs, releasing a sigh she hadn't even been aware was clogged up in her throat. "Daryl would never let anyone tell him what to do."

Merle just stares at her.

"Sweetheart, let me tell ya a lil'bit 'bout what he'd do for his little '_songbird_.'"

…

Beth is livid.

Merle's words resonate in her brain and all she can feel is blinding anger and the piercing sting of betrayal.

She'd known; of course she'd know that her family would try and meddle. They loved her and they'd seen her as a baby and she'd expected their disapproval, but she would have never imagined they'd go so far. Not to the point in which they'd used everything they could against her; diminished the personal growth she'd been so proud of to that of a child that needed to be coddled and protected at all costs, even her own happiness.

Not in a way that could hurt her so much.

It takes her less than fifteen minutes to get to the farm and when she does the first thing she notices is that her father's truck is missing, which means he's more than likely out with Otis. That's to her benefit, and she's so thankful for it because she really doesn't want her Daddy to see or hear all the things that have been plaguing her for years; she won't be the one to break his heart.

The few steps from the yard into the house feel like a never-ending journey but once she's inside she finds her target sitting in the kitchen, casually flipping through the pages of one of her mother's old recipe books as she waits for whatever she has in the oven to be done. The house is silent, so Beth guesses that Michael is either asleep or out with Glenn and the rest of the men, and it gives her peace to know her nephew won't be a witness to what's sure to be an undignified breakdown from an aunt he barely ever sees. She never wants that little boy to find out just what a big mess his family really is.

"How could you?" she asks the moment Maggie looks up at her standing in the kitchen entrance, voice just above a whisper, clenching her fists together and allowing all her pent up resentment to flourish. It's liberating and intoxicating at the same time. "What gave you the right to go and ruin the only thing that used to make me happy?"

"What the heck are you talking about?" her sister questions back, scrunching her eyebrows together in confusion. She closes the book on the table, pushing it away from her until its resting safely in the middle of the table.

"I know you were the one who filled Daryl's head with ideas so he'd break up with me," Beth accuses her, taking another step forward and daring the older Greene girl to deny it.

Her sister looks appalled, eyes shooting open and standing up from her seat with so much force that the edges of her pretty purple blouse flash a strip of her stomach as the wind gets caught beneath the material. "I did no such thing!"

Beth wishes she could believe her, and she'll admit that she looks convincing, but her gut tells her that oldest Dixon wasn't lying and the only person who could have interfered was standing right in front of her. "His brother told me it was someone from my family and I know it wasn't Daddy so it had to be you."

"Merle?" Maggie questions, huffing in disbelief and she stabs her fingernails into the wooden surface of the dining room's chairs. "Your ex-boyfriend's deadbeat, criminal brother? You're gonna stand there and tell me you're believing Merle Dixon over me?"

"He doesn't have a reason to lie to me."

"Neither do I, and I'm telling you it wasn't me."

"And I'm telling you I don't believe you," she shoots back, dropping her shoulders in exhaustion and taking a deep breath, feeling as the corners of her eyes begin to glisten. "Just admit it, Maggie."

"Bethy," she starts off, voice wavering as she stares at her younger sister's broken and bitter expression and attempting to move closer to her until she watches Beth take a step back and away from her.

"You couldn't just let things be," Beth tells her, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes and sniffling. "You couldn't accept that I wouldn't need you anymore and that I could have a life that didn't involve you butting into my decisions. You couldn't stand me being my own person and losing control over me."

"That's enough, Beth."

Both sisters look up to find Patricia staring at them, disappointment clearly painted on her face as she watches the two young women she considers her daughters tearing each other down; one obviously much more in control of her emotions than the other. The smart move would be to keep her mouth shut. She only has to play nice and make it to the end of the week before her duty will be finished and she can return home. All her logic and reason demand that she apologizes for making a scene and keeps to herself and soon everything could be forgotten. Things could go back to the way they've always been.

But Beth's been quiet for too long, and she refuses to bow down any longer. "It's not enough!"

"She's always done whatever she wanted and never had to deal with the consequences," she reminds Patricia, silently begging the older woman to understand and then redirects her anger back to her sister. "I stood by you through everything. I loved you and I lied for you and I never once judged you. Even when you left I tried to understand because I wanted you to be happy but the moment I did something that you didn't approve of you went behind my back and ruined it."

Maggie looks shaken, but something about her accusations must have resonated with her because her calm façade snaps and Beth can see the fury bubbling up in her sister's green eyes. "I'm telling you I didn't do it! And I'm not gonna apologize for the things I've done because they got me to where I am today and I wouldn't trade that for the world."

"Of course you wouldn't," she scoffs, ignoring the imploring looks Patricia sends her way. "I would never expect the most selfish person I've ever met to feel the need to apologize for causing others hurt."

Her sister recoils as if she'd been slapped, taking a step back and leaning against the kitchen sink. Maggie's fingers clench onto the marble countertop until the skin turns white from the extortion and the nubs begin to go numb. "You're one to talk about being selfish," she hisses in response. "At least when I left I came back. I stayed in touch. I wasn't the one who refused to come home and had her family worried sick over her. I wasn't the one who traded the farm life for another man's money and family."

Low blows; low blows all around.

It's a Greene Family specialty.

"Both of you shut up!"

Patricia's voice is louder this time, demanding attention, and both girls immediately quiet down.

"You two are sisters and your mother would be _ashamed_ of how you're bickering right now," she scolds them, and Beth feels like she's six and Maggie's thirteen and they've just gotten caught fighting over who gets to eat the last piece of peach pie all over again. "You are not little girls fighting over a doll anymore; you're both adults who should know better."

The sisters look down at the floor, dutifully reprimanded, both tucking a stray strand of hair behind their right ear before crossing their arms under their chest. They were so different, yet exactly the same: fierce and passionate and caring but with tempers that could rage at the drop of a hat and it would make the matriarch smile if it didn't break her heart so much.

Beth watches as Patricia moves towards her, grasping both her hands in her palms and staring her right in the eyes. "Maggie said it wasn't her and she's telling you the truth, Bethy."

"You don't know that," the younger blonde tries to argue but Patricia only shakes her head and closes her eyes before giving her fingers a soft squeeze.

"It wasn't her who talked to Daryl, sweetheart; it was me."

…

The next hour is kind of like a blur.

Patricia cries a lot as she tries to explain her reasons and motives and how she just had her best interest at heart. She talks a lot about what her momma always wanted for her and how she'd been so young and feelings changed and she didn't want her to miss out on a wonderful opportunity over a man. She tells her how she was scared she'd end up stuck there or living a mediocre life or being a teen mom.

Granted, they're all valid.

Really, she can see the legitimacy behind them, but that doesn't mean she accepts them.

She doesn't know what she feels; whether it's too much or not enough at all.

All Beth knows is that she doesn't want to hear any more stories or explanations.

She doesn't want to stand there and listen to the long list of excuses Patricia has to offer or the worried looks Maggie keeps sending her as she stands behind the woman's decisions. She doesn't want to wait for the rest of her family to get home and for them to stare at her with pity in their eyes over her blindness and stupidity. She's using everything she has to keep her mouth shut before she opens it and all the hurt and anger she feels comes tumbling out into a mess that she'll never be able to fix.

Instead, she turns around and slowly walks up the stairs and towards her room, locking the door behind her and lowering herself onto her bed. She closes her eyes and hopes for sleep to overcome her, which it does for a few blissful hours. When she wakes up the clock strikes a quarter past nine, and the rumblings from the lower floor inform her that everyone's awake and back. There's so many things flashing in and out of her mind; so many possibilities and circumstances to judge and reasons to weigh and she doesn't want to deal with it yet.

What she needs is a drink.

Actually, she needs a _lot_ of drinks.

So she grabs a leather jacket from her closet and the keys from her vanity and heads outside. She waves away their concerns and questions with a quick 'I'm going out' when her father and sister try and ask where she's headed and she does her absolute best to avoid Patricia's tear-stained eyes and apologetic expression.

The moment she steps outsides she realizes that she has a choice whether to take the shiny new car Pete rented for her earlier or her old beaten-up truck. The keys to both vehicles are in her hands and while reason tells her to just take the damn car her boyfriend paid a small fortune for, a rebellious side of her whispers that she can do whatever the heck she wants and that said boyfriend should have listened to her when she told him she didn't need a car. She was more than capable enough of making her own decisions.

Making her choice, she climbs into the blue monstrosity and smiles as the ridiculously loud engine roars to life and causes the entire cab to tremble softly. And then she's driving away, following the interstate that bypasses Senoia and heads straight to the little bar she remembers right on the edge of town. The music is loud and the parking lot is filled with trucks and motorcycles and people drinking outside, which means it's a busy night. She's sure more than a couple of people inside will recognize her, and the gossip will run rampant overnight.

It's perfect.

Let everyone know that Beth Greene doesn't hide from anyone.

She's only been inside for a couple of minutes and is still looking for a place to sit down when a familiar voice causes her to halt as it calls out for her.

"_Pajarita_," Martinez greets her, obviously surprised at her unexpected presence but still pulling her into a quick hug. "It's been a long time since I've seen you around here; missed your pretty face."

Beth willingly returns the embrace, remembering how her few encounters with this man had always been pleasant and comfortable. Martinez never once judged her or belittled her for dating his best friend, welcoming her into their make-shift family with open arms, and a part of her used to believe it was because he could see that all she wanted was to love the stubborn man. "I've missed you, too, Caesar."

"Where you been, girl?" he asks, and bless his heart for knowing better than to mention the past. "Or better yet, how long are you in town for?"

"I live in Savannah now," Beth answers, choosing to keep the bigger details to herself; there's no point in trying to explain things to him that she doesn't even understand. "And I was supposed to stay until the middle of next week, but I ain't so sure about that anymore."

"Oh, no," he playfully notes, complete with a little wince and a kind smile. "You sound like you could use a drink."

"You have no idea."

Martinez grins at her surly attitude, lifting his right hand to reassuringly squeeze her shoulder. "Alright, I've gotta make a run to the store for a couple of minutes but sit at the bar and Alisha will take of you. Tell her I said anything you want is on the house tonight."

"You don't have to do that," Beth tries to decline, but he's having none of it.

"Don't even worry about it," he insist, before leaning in closer to whisper in her ear in mock conspiracy, "I'll just charge them on some other poor drunk's tab when they ain't looking. Try not to leave before I get back, Birdy," he grins, giving her a wink before excusing himself and continuing his path out the door.

She takes him up on his offer, and when she sits at the bar and the pretty bartender asks her what she wants to drink, Beth finds herself ordering a bottle of Jack before she can think twice about it. The girl, Alisha, nods in understanding and pulls out a brand new bottle from a top shelf with a shot glass and places them right in front of her, reminding her to holler if she needs anything else.

She's half tempted to stand up and publicly toast to the man who stole all her dreams. May he suddenly appear and drop to his knees as he watches what he missed out on and everything they could have been.

Beth's barely pouring her third shot when she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns on her stool to find a man in a thick black vest and a gray long-sleeved shirt staring at her expectantly. He's got dark brown eyes and dirty black hair that falls to his shoulders. Everything about him makes her uncomfortable. It's easy to tell that this man is not one she should even consider talking to.

"Ya look like someone who can use a lil' company," he opens his mouth to speak, and the reek of cheap wine is dominant on his breath, causing her nose to scrunch up and her stomach to church a little bit. "Name's Len."

"Look," Beth tries to dissuade him, already knowing it'd be pointless. "I'm sure you're a nice guy and everything but I'd really just like to be alone right now."

"Aww, come on, Blondie," he insists, leaning against the counter and forcing her to straighten up in her own stool to avoid their bodies touching. "Ain't no point in both of us being lonely when we can spend the night together."

"No."

"At least let me know yer name."

"My name's Beth," she concedes, looking around and hoping to spot Alisha or Martinez or any other familiar face but it's all to no avail. It's a busy night and everyone is busy working and mingling. "And I'm not interested."

"Beth," he repeats, completely ignoring her obvious discomfort and the way he rolls her name around on his tongue is enough to make her feel nauseous again. His red-rimmed eyes light up with recognition and the leer that suddenly appears on his face makes her pull her jacket on tighter, discreetly covering as much of her body as possible.

"Hey, ain't ya the lil' one that Dixon used to fuck around with a couple years ago?"

Beth freezes, and even though this whole damn day has been filled with more reminders of him than she ever wanted, the mention of his name is still enough to make her turn cold and for her skin to turn paler than should be possible. Still, she will not coward in front of this stranger, nor will she let his crude comments get to her. "I can't see how that's any of your business."

"You are!" he laughs, taking a drink from a beer resting on the counter that didn't belong to him and slamming the glass back down after he was done. "Damn, girl, way you had him all messed up; walking 'round here like a dead man, you must be one fine piece of ass in the sack."

She bristles, and she did not spend years building herself back up for a random, sexist drunk to come over and try and tear her down. "Okay, you need to go away and leave me alone _right now_."

If only things were ever that simple in her life.

"What? You're telling me Dixon dick is good enough for ya but a Wiseman one ain't? I reckon that's just plain rude right there."

His hand wraps around her slim wrist, physically trying to assert some bizarre and non-existent level of control over her. Beth's eyes snap up to his, narrowing into two thin slits and curling her top lip back in disgust. In the calmest tone she can muster, she warns him "you have two seconds to let me go before you really regret even looking my way."

Len responds by tightening his hold on her wrist, forceful enough to shoot little bolts of pain up her arm and onto her shoulder. Smiling, he leans forwards enough for her to feel his breath fan across her cheek and if she wasn't such a fan of hygiene Beth would have no qualms over spitting on his face.

"What you gonna do, girly?"

The fingers of her free hand are curled up into a fist, thumb placed just the way he'd taught her all those years ago. Her legs have discreetly shifted so that she's got a clear path for her knee to slam into his crotch and she's just about to let the asshole have it when the last thing she'd ever expected happens. Someone from somewhere behind her speaks.

"Get your fucking hands off her."

The voice is low and feral and it sends a shiver shooting straight down her spine. Beth doesn't even have to turn around to know who its owner is.

But she does, and the sight she's met with leaves her feeling breathless and suffocated in ways she doesn't even want to consider; like a double punch to the gut when you're already down.

There stands Daryl Dixon…and he's seriously pissed the fuck off.

Well, so is she.

…

**AN: Hope you guys liked this one! **

**Thanks to everyone for the super lovely reviews for the last chapter. Personally, it wasn't one of my favorites but it had to be done. I think I got review replies back to everyone except for the anons, but those are just as appreciated.**

**There were two of you who guessed it was Patricia who was behind the breakup and I was really excited that y'all figured it out. And, look! I finally found the Dixons! **


	7. Chapter 7

"_Promises I made to you went down the sink_

_Really hope I haven't harmed your self-esteem_

_I'm not a virgin but I'm not the whore you think_

_And I don't always smell like strawberries & cream."_

-Shakira

…

_Beth's like a melody inside his head._

_She's beautiful and captivating and so fucking bright and warm that sometimes he has trouble believing she's real. In all his thirty-six years he'd never met another person who was just so obviously good, who didn't let the shitty facts of life stop her from looking for the best in people; finding beauty where others only saw waste. There are days when he still wakes up thinking she'll disappear, like a fantasy that turns into wisps of smoke the moment you open your eyes, but Beth never does. She's always there, waiting for him to catch up and offering her hand for him to hold on. _

_He never wants to let her go. _

_Daryl thinks about their last encounter three days ago; remembers the way she'd curled her tiny self into his hold while they sat on the sofa after an evening of blow jobs and rough sex followed by ice cream and gentle reassurances. He thinks about her whispered words of love and trust and how they made his heart speed up and warmth spread throughout his chest and limbs. He thinks about how fucking perfect it'd be to be able to hold her in his arms every night and have her be there every morning. _

_It's time. _

_He knows it's time for him to man up and tell Beth he loves her. The girl had opened up and risked her heart when she told him as much weeks ago. She'd done it because she wanted him to know it but she'd never expected him to reciprocate his words immediately. She'd been patient and loving and reassuring and she'd given him all the time he needed to make sure he was well-aware of how deep he was and what he felt for her. She knew her own mind and went after what she wanted without looking back. Little Beth Greene had more fucking balls than he did, and he'd admit that any day of the week. _

_But that's not everything. _

_Nowhere near it. _

_He always wants her close, and when she's not his mind would wander until her image was the only thing that filled his thoughts. _

_Sometimes he'd be out talking a walk through the woods or riding his bike down some empty highway and he'd pass by a little meadow or an old willow tree and he'd think about how Beth would like it, too. Or maybe he'd spot a little trinket hanging from the window of a shop in town and he'd remember the way her gorgeous smile would light up once he shared his discoveries with her. He's never been one for much music but he swears her singing brings him peace, and he always feels his heart skip a beat when he finds little pieces of paper with lyrics scattered throughout his home; perfect insights into the mind of a girl he never thinks he'll fully understand. _

_Even her little quirks, (like the way she eats all the red and yellow gummy bears first and leaves the yellow ones at the bottom of the bag for him, can't sleep and will toss and turn all night if there's not a window opened, and organizes his kitchen cabinets when she thinks he isn't looking), which would just annoy and piss him off if done by anyone else, have him thinking she's endearing. _

_He's not even gonna think about everything he feels when she's naked and wrapped around him, moaning his name and kissing his neck as her fingernails dig into the skin of his shoulders and chest, always mindful of the scars on his back but never intimidated or disgusted by them. Out of everything that she could do, that unconditional acceptance had to be what tore at his heart until it bled out all the poison and replaced it with her care and tenderness. _

_So, yeah; if she could do all those things for him without missing a beat, you best believe he was gonna man the fuck up and tell his girl he loves her. _

…

_It's a Wednesday evening when it all turns to shit. _

_He pulls his bike into the driveway, exhausted from a long day at the garage and two extra hours of overtime, only to find a blonde woman who looked to be in her early forties sitting on the brown wooden steps of his front porch, hands folded neatly on her lap. She's got her hair pulled back into a loose French braid and her clothes are clean but well-worn. She looks like one of the ladies from town, the ones that are always in church and wear golden crosses around their necks while they gossip all day, but her face is tired and it's obvious that her life's been filled with hard work. _

_This is a person who means business. _

"_Can I help ya with something?"_

_The woman looks up from her lap, already aware of his presence. "My name is Patricia," she introduces herself, standing up and shaking the dirt off her long tan skirt. She doesn't offer her hand and Daryl senses it's not meant to spite him, but instead as a warning that she's not here under false pretenses. "I work with the Greene family, and I'm here to talk to you about Beth." _

_Recognition flashes across his mind, and suddenly the strange woman standing there makes a whole lot of sense. To be frank, he's kind of surprised she hadn't shown up sooner. "I know who you are," he admits, stuffing his hands into his pockets and digging out his house keys. "Beth talks about you a lot; you mean the world to her."_

"_Her momma, Annette, was my best friend," Patricia sighs quietly, stepping aside for him to open the door and following him inside when he nods his head in that direction. "I love those girls as if they were my own. I helped raise them and there's not a thing I wouldn't do for either one of them."_

_There's something about how soft her voice is that has Daryl on edge. _

_His mind is telling him that he's a paranoid bastard; Beth spent hours gushing about how much she loved this woman and how she was on their side. It was only a couple of days ago that she'd been smiling and talking about how she was gonna help her talk to her Daddy so that he'd understand and accept them together. There is no reason for him to be on the defensive already when all she's done is introduce herself and verify how much she cares for the same girl he does, and if he keeps it up he's just gonna end up looking like an ass. _

_Except, the sting on the back of his shoulder blades and the tension in his neck is still there; the same one that warns him when something is about to go wrong, and that natural survival instinct has never failed him before. Every time he's ignored he'd wished he'd taken the fucking hint and bailed out before he got fucked over. _

_It's probably the only thing that's kept him alive so long. _

_He's about to open his mouth and ask her to sit down (because it's the polite thing to do and a part of him is acutely aware that making a good impression can only serve to his benefit, but a larger part just wants Beth to be happy and if him playing nice with this woman gets him that, so be it), when she turns around and stares at him, brown eyes wide and voice clear and loud. "You need to break up with her."_

_He knew it was too fucking good to be true. _

_It doesn't stop the sting, though. _

"_Look," Daryl begins, taking a breath to control his anger and a step back and away from this practical stranger. "I know I ain't no catch; anyone with eyes can see that Beth can do better than some nobody redneck that's twice her age with a shit family history. I get that."_

_And really, he does. _

_He's known that all along, and he doesn't doubt that this woman is looking around his home and calculating just how little he really has to offer the girl she sees as her daughter. The place is small and in need of repairs and still half-bare except for the splashes of color Beth had been slowly adding. He'd never understood the need for much more than a place to eat and sleep but she was determined to turn this place into a proper home, filled with photographs and memories that spoke of comfort and familiarity. _

_Of course he could see the many changes, but Patricia would not. _

_She wouldn't have the first clue what to look for. _

_Instead, she'd focus on what was presented to her._

_It wasn't a much better package; not ever, and definitely not as he stood this moment, with his torn work jeans and his grease-stained shirts and dirty, over-grown hair. _

"_It's not about that."_

_Daryl snorts in disbelief. "You tellin' me you wouldn't be here right now, asking me to let go of that girl if I wasn't younger or richer? If people didn't take one look at me without gossipin' or wonderin' when I'm gonna rob 'em? If being with me didn't ruin or stain the Greene's reputation?" _

_He pauses, and his last question feels like acid and burns his mouth before he can spit it out. _

"_If I wasn't a fucking Dixon?"_

_Because, really, he could change everything else. _

_Maybe he couldn't get any younger but he sure as hell could find a way to get richer. Money talks, so much more than a reputation or character ever could, and he doesn't doubt that a couple of acts of selfless benevolence in the form of large checks to the city council could buy him all the acceptance and respect he'd ever need in this or any other town. People don't give a single shit if you're an asshole as long as you're willing to show up for church on Sundays and cough up a lengthy donation during mass. _

_They'll even smile and thank you as they remind you that God loves you, and bless your heart. _

_But no amount of money could ever change the fact that he's a Dixon. It doesn't change that his family is full of drunks and criminals. Doesn't change Will Dixon from being the meanest drunk to ever step foot in this town or his momma from being remembered as that broad that used to get beat all the time until one day she got so lit that she burned down the house with herself still inside. It doesn't change that his brother is a drug addict that's always pushing pills and locked up jail more often than not. _

_It doesn't change his legacy from being one that was always meant to rot and wither out. _

"_I couldn't care less how old you are or what your last name is," Patricia answers back, lifting her hands so they rest on her hips in open defiance and honesty. "If she was with another boy her same age and it was the same situation you can bet I'd be at their home instead. This is about someone with a clear head stepping in and stopping that girl from making a huge mistake."_

"_This ain't a mistake," he growls back, running a hand through his hair to push back the long strands covering his eyes. Daryl exhales, reminding himself that he has to keep a cool head and that he'd always known he'd have to fight for Beth. There was no way he was giving up now that they were so close to having everything together. "I know it ain't exactly conventional, but we're happy. I'm takin' care of her, and I ain't ever gonna let anyone hurt her." _

_She only stares at him, as if silently weighing the worth of his words, and the pity that pools in her big eyes is more than Daryl's prepared to deal with. _

"_This is not what her mother wanted for her."_

"_Her momma would have wanted her to be happy," he counters, clenching his fist and looking away from her. _

"_Yes," she quickly agrees, granting him at least that acknowledgement, and then diving in for another blow. "But Annette also wanted her to be free. She wanted more for her girls than the small-town life that we've all lived."_

"_I ain't never forced her to do anything or try and trapped her," Daryl scowls at her, voice steeling with the silent accusation. "Everything we've done has been because we both wanted it."_

"_What can you offer her?" She tries again, looking for a different approach to get through to him and finally zeroing in on the elephant in the room. "What can anybody in this town offer her that she can't find somewhere else? What is she supposed to do with her life? Marry you? Have a couple of kids and stay home to be a housewife? Clean and cook and raise your children, or maybe take a couple of classes at the community college so she can get a minimum wage job where she'll never be fully appreciated?"_

_He hates that she doesn't even sound angry or judgmental; hates that she's making him question his decision and feel like he's being a selfish bastard for ignoring all those factors and getting wrapped up in all the love and bliss that she brought into his life. Hates that deep down a part of him has always know Patricia's right; knows that Beth deserves more than he could ever give her, more than a small town could give a person as bright as she._

_Hates that he's always known she needed more. _

"_She has a scholarship, Daryl," she informs him, and his mouth hangs open at the declaration. Beth had never mentioned anything about it, and he thinks that maybe it's because a part of her knew that she needed more, too, and just didn't want to admit it. "A free ride to an excellent university in New York where she can study to be anything she sets her mind to; where she can really learn to be happy and independent and live out her dreams."_

_She waits for him to look up at her again, and then goes in for the kill. "Don't be the one who stands in the way and steals that from her." _

_It's like she's sticking a damn knife in his gut, twisting it inside at the same time that she apologizes for the hurt she's causing him. _

"_What the hell do you want from me?" _

_For the first time since she walked into his home, Patricia hesitates. She closes her eyes, drops her shoulders and murmurs something that sounds suspiciously close to a 'Lord, forgive me,' and then turns back to him full of determination. "I need you to break her heart."_

_Daryl would laugh at the absurdity of this entire conversation if he wasn't so fucking enraged. _

"_Nah, no way am I doing that shit," he immediately denies, wound up and pacing the room, like a wild animal that's been taunted too much and is getting ready to attack. "I can try and talk to her and ask her if she wants to go, but I ain't 'bout to try and break that girl more than she's already been broken."_

"_Look, I know you love her," she sighs, trying to pacify him, but her mention of 'love' has Daryl crossing the room until he's standing right in front of her, leaning down so they're at the same eye-level and glaring at her with all the hatred he feels brewing inside._

"_Don't try and give me some bullshit story 'bout how 'if I love her, I'll let her go' or some other shit like that," he yells, done listening to this woman who pressed all the right buttons and had him feeling like a piece of trash without once using a proper insult. "She's here and she's happy with me and we were doing just fine 'til you showed up just now. If you don't like it, get the fuck out of our lives and leave us alone."_

_Apparently, she doesn't take very well to being yelled at, because she comes back at him with the same force he's using._

"_How long do you think that'll last?" she sneers, furrowing her brows and breathing deeply through her nose. "For God's sake, she just turned eighteen years old; up until a few months ago she was a shell of a girl who wouldn't let herself feel a thing, wouldn't let anyone get too close. I know you helped her; I know she trusts and loves you but it doesn't change the fact that she hasn't had the chance to experience or learn anything on her own. She thinks that all she needs is you in this world."_

_Patricia doesn't stop there. _

"_Do you understand how dangerous that is? How incredibly wrong it is? She doesn't know how to be happy on her own; God, I don't think she even thinks she can. She's young and confused and then you come in and all she sees is a man who is solid and sure of himself and she clung onto you like a lifeline but she can't do that. Nobody can live their life that way; depending on another person for their happiness. Don't make her stay here just because you're afraid of being without her."_

_It's like she's looking straight into his mind, pulling apart every doubt and insecurity he's had about this relationship one by one. _

_And fuck him if she doesn't make a whole bunch of sense. _

"_It ain't like that," Daryl shakes his head, voice down to a barely audible whisper. "I love her."_

_It's the truth. _

_The truth he's known all along and the one he should've told Beth the moment the emotion first fluttered in his heart. The one thing she deserved to have heard from him a thousand times. The words he should have kissed along her skin until they were branded into her soul and gifted back to him every time she smiled. _

_The confession that belonged only to Beth, not to this stranger asking him to throw it all away._

"_Everybody who's ever met her has," Patricia offers him a kind and sympathetic smile, no doubt aware that her motives for being here would be fulfilled. "But you need to do this. She will never leave or give you up on her own. If her Daddy or me try and make her see reason she'll just hold onto you even more. She's stubborn and she won't change her mind until it's too late and it all crashes down. You need to be the one who pushes her out of this town."_

"_She's gonna hate me."_

"_She will," the older blonde admits, reaching out to grasp his hand and not taking offence when he cringes away from her touch. "She'll hate you right now, but when she gets older and looks back at her life and all she's achieved because she had the courage to chase her dreams I swear to you that I will tell her the truth and she will understand and she will thank you for it."_

"_That's a lie," he scoffs, a reflex reaction, voice bitter but with no bite. _

"_Maybe, but she deserves a shot."_

_In hindsight, he should have known it couldn't last forever. _

_Nothing good in his life ever did. _

…

See, this is why she'd put off coming back to Senoia for so long.

Beth knows that if she was back in Savannah she would have never found herself in anything close to this situation.

Right now she'd probably be sitting at home, curled up with a blanket and her favorite fuzzy socks, relaxing on their cozy black leather sofas while binge watching shows on Netflix, armed with an endless supply of hot chocolates and blueberry muffins. Or maybe she'd be out with one of her girlfriends, window shopping in the honestly fabulous fashion district or browsing through a new art gallery or trying out a chic new restaurant. More realistically, she'd probably be getting ready for another event where her presence was required by Pete or she'd be filling out paperwork and catching up on new material for her own job.

She would not, under any circumstances, be sitting in the middle of a dingy bar on the outskirts of town with a bottle of Jack Daniels while some random drunk asshole tries to manhandle her.

She wouldn't be less than ten feet away from her ex-lover, who seems to have suddenly developed a need to protect her honor.

In case nobody noticed, she can take care of herself.

Which is why she doesn't let her momentum evaporate and instead lets the adrenaline humming in her vein run free and wild enough for her fist to lash out and connect with Len's face, relishing in the satisfaction of feeling her rings scrape against tender skin that cracks underneath the strength of her thin fingers.

She gets him right in the nose.

"You fucking bitch!" Len screeches, letting go of her wrist to bring both hands up to his face, cupping his nose as a small stream of blood trickles down his face and over his chin.

"I told you to let me go," Beth snaps back, feeling furious and bold as she stands her ground but also being smart enough to know better than to let her guard down. Men like Len have a way of never knowing how to take 'no' for an answer, and she'd bet her soul that he wouldn't think twice about hitting her back for putting him in his place.

Her intuition is proven right when he lifts his palm up, pulling it back to gain all the force he wanted to slap her with, but she doesn't even have a chance defend herself when there's this mass of leather and smoke pushing its way in front of her and decking her accoster so hard that the sorry excuse for a man lands on his ass on the floor.

"What's your fucking problem, Dixon?" Len laughs from the floor, wiping the back of his hand across his face to stop the blood from entering his mouth. "Everyone here knows ya ain't got no claim on that sweet little piece of ass no more."

"Watch your fucking mouth," Daryl warns him, already lifting his arms and getting ready to let another punch go. Len only laughs harder, gracelessly standing up from the floor and grinning like a madman at the threat, the alcohol on his breath and the redness of his eyes granting him that intimidating touch of insanity.

"So sensitive!" Len taunts him, maintaining his distance and leaning back against an empty stool for balance. "Maybe I'm wrong, then," he keeps on, eyeing the crowd that's quickly began to surround them to watch their little spectacle and basking in the attention. "Maybe she's back 'cause she missed some dirty ass redneck fucking her like an animal while she's been off pretending to be little Miss Prim an' Proper."

Daryl pounces.

For a moment Beth can only stand there, frozen in place as she watches both men trade hits and fall into a heap on the floor. The crowd that'd gathered is doing their best to pull them apart, but there's very little that can stand in the way of that much violence and adrenaline once a fight actually breaks out. It's like rationality takes flight and all that's left is a basic instinct to cause as much harm to the person in front of you as you possibly can.

It's not until one of other women bumps into her that she snaps out of her haze, and then she's rushing forward to pull Daryl back. The moment her hands make contact with the leather of his jacket he shrugs her off, knocking her off balance and causing her to gasp as she stumbles on her heels. The noise must have registered somewhere in the corner of his mind, because Daryl immediately angles his face away to look at her and Len takes the opportunity to strike against his jaw.

And then a new person speaks up.

"That's enough."

It's not the unyielding voice that causes everyone to listen.

No. What makes everyone stop in their tracks is the unmistakable sound of a gun's safety being clicked off, followed by the soft thud of heavy boots as they cut through the circle of people, demanding respect with every confident step.

The man is tall; taller than Daryl, even, with broad shoulders and a sharply defined jaw covered in light stubble. He's built with sinewy muscle and on his face are a set of hardened blue eyes that speak volumes of the chaos he's seen in life. His hair is dark, short and wavy, and if it weren't for the sheriff's uniform and badge he's wearing Beth would never guess he belonged to law enforcement.

He seems a little bit too… _disheveled_ to fit the cut.

"Now," he speaks again, voice low and raspy with a southern accent, refusing to lower his gun. "Both of you are gonna break it up and leave, right now, or we're all going to be heading down to the station in the next five minutes."

"Yeah, right," Len scoffs once both men stand up, stepping away from each other and Beth wants to sigh in relief when Daryl moves to stand in front of her but makes no attempt to try and touch her. "Like you an' Dixon ain't thick as thieves; to get me you'd have to arrest your bitch, too."

The man finally lowers his gun, securely holstering it on his hip again, and he's got his hands wrapped around the material of Len's jacket before anyone can blink. "Ain't gonna say it again, Wiseman," he warns him, and Beth doesn't miss the fear that crosses the jerk's face under this strange man's scrutiny before he releases his hold. "Leave, or I'll make sure you rot in jail for the rest of your life."

Len grunts, murmuring under his breath and cursing them all to hell, but those as he's told.

"I think it'd be best if you went and headed on home now, too, Miss."

Beth's almost embarrassed of how long it takes her to realize he's talking to her. "Who are you?" she asks once she manages to clear her head, stepping out from behind the makeshift wall that Daryl's body consciously made and doing her absolute best to ignore him for as long as she possibly can.

Out of sight, out of mind.

"My name is Rick Grimes," he introduces himself, nodding his head in greeting. "I've been the sheriff in this town for the last three years and I'm politely asking you to go home for the night."

Maybe it's the whiskey.

Maybe it's being back in this town and the heightened emotions and the exhaustion from how high her feelings have been running all day. Maybe it's all the disappointment she feels about Pete leaving her alone or the betrayal she feels towards Patricia or the resentment against Maggie or the anger and worry that washed over her in the last couple of minutes for Daryl.

Or maybe it's just that she's sick and tired of having everyone feel like they know what's best for her. Maybe she's just done allowing people, even this man who actually does have legal authority and should probably be the last person she challenges, to dictate her decisions. Maybe she just wants them to understand that she is twenty-three years old and she's an adult and she has every right to stay here, in this dirty bar, and get drunk until she can't think straight and everything feels alright.

She found out long ago that she's a happy drunk.

She _needs_ that right now.

"Well, I'm Beth Greene," she sasses back, imitating his introduction and arching a brow for added defiance. "I grew up here, I'm friends with the owner, and I haven't done anything wrong for you to try and kick me out."

Both men turn to stare at her, one with surprise clearly painted on his face at hearing her talk back and the other with strange mix of nostalgia and prideful familiarity as he recognizes the stubborn streak in her personality shining through.

"You were just involved in a bar fight," he states, completely proper and matter-of-fact.

"No," Beth clarifies, forcing a tight smile on her face and letting her voice turn sugary-sweet. "I was trying to have a drink when an asshole started to bother me. It ain't my fault if somebody else decided to get involved in my disagreement."

Rick's stance doesn't falter, but the arch of his eyebrow gives away his quiet appraisal. Somehow, she's sure that she's managed to impress him. "I saw you throw the first punch."

"It was self-defense."

"It's assault and battery."

"I told him to let go of me," she defends herself , straightening her jacket and losing the tough and bitchy front. She will not go down for standing up for herself. "He kept trying to push himself onto me even though I told him I wasn't interested."

"I know," Rick agrees, shooting a glare to the crowd around them and Beth watches in disbelief as they quickly begin to disperse, leaving them and Daryl in the closest thing to privacy they could ask for. "Which is why nobody got arrested tonight."

Beth is honestly confused now. "Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is that you've had a couple of drinks," he murmurs, glancing over at the abandoned bottle of Jack by her side. Beth curses her luck, fighting back a flush when Daryl's stare intensifies and burns against her back once he realizes her current drink of choice.

_His_ drink of choice.

"And I think it'd be best if you let Daryl take you home," he finishes.

No fucking way.

She must have said it out loud, because Rick's eyebrow arches again, eyes slanting as he studies her balance and prepares himself to bargain. "You can let him, who I trust and I know hasn't had a drink tonight, or you can call somebody else to come pick you up and drive you home," he declares, giving no indication that he's going to budge. "Either way, you aren't getting behind the wheel of a car on your own without me pulling you over for a DUI."

And, really, who was she supposed to call?

Her Daddy? Maggie? Patricia?

Was she supposed to swallow her pride, bow her head, and call the farm; hoping one of them drives across town and picks her up because some asshole was hitting on her and Officer Friendly refuses to let her drive home, like a teenager caught out after curfew? Is that how her little stand was going to end? With her being treated more like a child than she ever has in her life.

No.

It's not even an option.

"Fine," she snaps, turning back to Daryl and staring into his deep blue eyes for the first time in over five years. "But I'm not going back to the farm tonight."

"Where am I supposed to take ya, then?" he asks, obviously confused at her open acts of defiance and at her unwillingness to cooperate or communicate with her family.

"You're gonna take me home."

…

It's the principle of the matter, really.

Does she want to go back to his home?

No.

Does she want to be anywhere near him?

No

Does she wish she was anywhere besides here, in the passenger's seat of her old truck while Daryl sits at the wheels and drives them across town?

Of course.

Does she regret not calling the farm and asking someone to pick her up?

Hell no.

Because out of every messed up revelation and conversation that has happened on this honestly horrible day, her deciding to spend the night in Daryl's home when nobody even thought to suggest it is somehow the only choice she's managed to make on her own in who knows how long.

Was it the wrong choice?

Probably.

But it was still hers to make and whatever came out of it (which will be nothing) is only on her. On this particular moment nothing else factors in except that she's taking matters into her own hands and consequences be damned. Nobody knows where she is or what she's up to and nobody's watching her and it feels like the closest thing to absolute freedom a person like her could ever achieve.

It may be a lie, but at least it's a good one, and that's all you could ask for sometimes.

…

They're about ten minutes from his house when he decides to start talking to her.

Well, that's nice and all, but it don't mean she wants to talk to him.

"You sure you don't want me to take ya to the farm?"

"Yup."

"Your family's gonna be worried."

"Probably."

"You gonna call 'em?"

"Nope."

"Plannin' on sayin' more than a word tonight?"

"You ain't gonna get laid tonight," she replies, not missing a beat.

He grunts, apparently not appreciating her sense of humor. His fingers tap against the steering wheel, a nervous habit from him she recognizes on the spot. His brows furrow and his jaw tightens, almost as if he was debating with himself whether to ask her what was bothering him. He groans, giving in, and continues to look straightforward when he finally caves.

"Why are you back, Beth?"

"I'm not," she immediately denies, shuddering at the thought of staying in this place for a second longer than necessary. "I'm here for a couple of days and then I'm going back to where I belong."

Absolute silence.

Then, "Good," he replies, still refusing to look at her as he continues driving.

She doesn't know why that hurts her so much.

It's not like she's expecting him to drop to his knees and ask her to stay. He didn't do it then, and he's surely not going to do it now. It's not that he's not suddenly confessing his never-ending love for her, because he didn't do that either. It's not that she's waiting for him to open his mouth and reveal his reasons for breaking her heart, because she promised herself long ago that no amount of excuses would earn her forgiveness.

It's not like any of that still matters.

And it's not like she still loves him.

It's just that he's so _indifferent_ to it.

Like her being back in town and sitting next to him as he drives them to his home is just another every-day thing. Like his last words to her have been long-forgotten, along with all the heartbreak. Like her getting on a plane and leaving tomorrow would make absolutely no difference to him.

Like everything they went through still doesn't matter; like _she_ doesn't matter.

It's not like her, and Beth has never let herself turn vengeful, but _God_, does she _want_ to _hurt_ him.

Just a little; just a _taste_ of everything he made her feel.

So she starts talking; framing every word with poison and aiming every shot straight below the belt. She'll make Daryl Dixon feel something tonight, even if it's the last damn thing she does.

"I live with my boyfriend, you know? His name is Pete Dolgen and I've been dating him for a while now; over three years."

No reaction.

"He's a good man, a bit older than me but don't worry, you're still the oldest man I've let into my pants."

His jaw twitches, and Beth knows she's getting to him when she watches him bite the inside of his cheek.

She's nowhere near done.

"He was in the military; came back home a hero and a Lieutenant. His family's got money, and I mean, like, a lot of it. He takes me to fancy restaurants and buys me expensive jewelry and shows me off to all his friends and family like I'm the best thing he's ever had."

"I think he's gonna ask me to marry him," she confides, lowering her voice to a whisper, as if she was letting in an old friend on a big secret. "I caught him pocketing one of my rings and heard him talking on the phone with his best friend about sizes and styles when he thought I was sleeping." She increases her pitch, letting in all the false excitement until she's sure she sounds like a bimbo gushing over her sugar daddy. "Can you just imagine it? Little ol' me, farm-girl extraordinaire, suddenly being Mrs. Beth Dolgen; the center of attention in Savannah's elite society?"

Then she freezes.

Because her next thought hurts her more than it could ever hurt him.

She remembers, just briefly (because anything more is dangerous), how she felt in that dorm bathroom. Remembers being alone and in mid-panic and fantasizing about a little boy that looked just like his daddy. Remembers the emptiness and the inexplicable sadness that had followed her around since that day and still continued to haunt her and appear when she least expected it.

And if he feels nothing else, she wants him to at least feel _that_.

She wants him to know what it feels like to mourn for someone you never had; miss and search for someone you never knew.

Learn what it's like to live incomplete.

"Maybe I'll have a baby soon," she divulges, losing all traces of humor. "A cute little girl with black hair and brown eyes, just like her daddy. Pete's great with kids, ya know? All the kids at the orphanage where we volunteer absolutely adore him and we've talked about how we want to have one or two of our own and adopt a couple of others."

Fury is radiating off of him, like a heater turned to full blast in the middle of a storm.

But he still won't look at her.

"And I guess I have you to thank for all of that," she finishes, looking out the window as his home comes into view. They'll be there in a few more seconds, and then she'll be free to lock herself in his spare bedroom and sleep until her problems don't feel quite so overwhelming. "I mean, Patricia told me, you know? How she talked to you and convinced you to let me go. So really, thanks. Maybe when I have my kids I'll tell them all about the kind man who showed their momma the way when she was just a lost and stupid girl who couldn't be trusted to make a choice on her own."

He stops the truck.

Beth's got her hand on the door handle and she's just about to pull it open when she feels her arm being hauled back. She snaps her head back to glare at him but before she can even begin to form a complaint Daryl's dragged her body tight against his and his mouth is slanted over hers and he tastes like smoke and diet coke and he smells like leather and something's that's just so undeniably _Daryl_ and she's lost in it all.

God damn it.

…

**AN: Hey guys!**

**Sorry for the delay, but I hope it was worth the wait. Work and school have been keeping me ridiculously occupied but I've been squeezing time in to write whenever I can. **

**You guys blew me away with the reviews for the last chapter and I'm so happy you all liked it so much! Sorry I couldn't get back to you with Review Replies but I've been majorly pressed for time. I'll try and catch up! **

**Anyways, I've finally got the ball rolling with these two and things are about to speed up because, you know, in small towns rumors fly. **

**Let me know what you think is gonna happen!**

**-Ashley**


	8. Chapter 8

"_A sad misfortune came over me_

_Which caused me to stray from the land_

_Far away from my friends and relations_

_Betrayed by the black velvet band."_

_-_Grace Burgess

_Savannah's a good fit for her._

_The university is gorgeous and the professors are passionate and even though she's not quite sure what she wants to major in, she's having a good time figuring everything out. The scholarship from New York isn't valid here, but her financial aid covers part of the cost and she takes out a student loan to polish off the rest. With what's left over she rents a tiny little loft that's twenty minutes away from campus and which she'll be able to comfortably afford on her own if she can find herself a job soon._

_And when she says 'tiny', that's exactly what she means. _

_But it's hers and it's home and for once she's really going to be independent and able to make her own decisions without rendering explanations to anyone else. _

_The flat is located right in the middle of a busy block but all the shop owners are friendly and try their best to make her feel welcomed in their tight-knit community. There's a flower shop on the corner, of the 'Mom & Pop' variety, and when she steps inside in search of calla lilies for her table she runs into an older woman named Jacqui, who owns the locale. They have a short conversation, which mostly consists of Beth reminiscing about growing up gardening with her mother and how she's new in town and there for university, and by the time she leaves she's got an offer to work part time and flexibility to set her hours around her class schedule._

_By the time her sophomore year starts she has a job and a place to live and her future is looking bright. _

_Things are slotting into their predestined slots. _

_If she's also incredibly lonely, well, it's not like you can have everything in life._

…

_She's been living there for three months when trouble comes knocking on her door. _

_There's a boy._

_Who's not a boy anymore, not really, but instead a couple of years older than her. _

_His name is Zach and he drives the delivery truck for the company Jacqui buys her fertilizer from. He's the butcher's grandson and well-known and loved and he develops a sort of silly crush on her after she's there waiting to sign for the order a few weeks back. He comes by every-other day and buys single roses that he gifts her and asks her out on dates every chance he gets. She says 'no' every time with a kind smile and a small laugh and he never holds it against her or gets angry or turns pushy, so she's not mad when he keeps coming back. _

_Until word of his infatuation spreads around and suddenly everywhere she turns there's people telling her what a great guy he is and how she should give him a chance. The giggles start the moment he steps into the shop and there are sly remarks about young lovers in the making and this silent expectation for her to give into the pressure and just go with the flow for once. _

'_Come on, Bethy; don't you want to make people happy?'_

_So she does. _

_He takes her out for dinner to a fancy restaurant in the city and he's all cleaned up and polished and she feels inadequate and out of place because she was expecting them to go out for pizza or a burger and hadn't bothered to dress up. So, he's sitting there in his slacks and his dress shirt and tie with his hair slicked back and she's across from him, wearing jeans and dirty boots and an old blouse she's had since she was thirteen with her hair pulled up into a heavy bun. People are staring, because this might be the city and they might be hip but there are still expectations to be met by girls from the South and she's just about flunking each and every one. _

_He talks about his little sister and his parents and how he lives with his grandpa. He shares anecdotes about his adventures with his friends and staying out all night for concerts and getting caught sneaking back into his house by the neighbors. Zach gushes about his car, and Beth doesn't hold it against him because he explains how he worked his butt off for years so he could afford it on in his own without needing to ask his family to help him out. _

_They go for a walk around the busy city block once they're done eating and everything's fine until he tries to hold her hand. _

_He's just a nice, normal guy._

_He reminds her of Jimmy a lot, that way._

_And, just like with Jimmy after her momma died, she can't stand his touch. _

_Beth snatches her hand away, skin burning like acid was poured over it, and freezes in place. He breathing turns ragged and her skin turns pale and she knows she must look like a spectacle with her wide eyes full of panic as she backs away from him. _

"_I can't do this," she whispers, closing her eyes and doing her damn best to control her breathing. _

_When she opens them again Zach is staring at her, plain worry on his face and she can tell he's trying to decide whether he should just leave her be or try to offer his comfort in the middle of her obvious breakdown. She feels bad for him, because he's a good guy and he doesn't deserve to have to deal with the mess that she is, but then she remember how many times she tried to tell him she wasn't interested and everything sort of just blanks out and what Zach is feeling doesn't really carry an ounce of weight for her in the end. _

_He settles on just nodding, understanding, and then they're back in his car and he's driving her home and suddenly his cologne smells too strong and the seats are too close and the windows are too dark and the music too low and everything is too much and she needs him to hurry up so she can be back in her loft already, safe and at peace and alone. _

"_I'm sorry," he apologizes once the car stops, right in front of her home and she's already got her seat belt unbuckled and is reaching for the door handle but his sincerity makes her stop to listen. "I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable."_

"_It's not your fault," she manages to get out, not sure how to explain any of her actions without looking like an even bigger maniac or having to describe the events that led to her being such a wreck. Beth stares at him, and then decides to give him just a small sliver of an explanation, because people deserved to know when something going terribly wrong wasn't on them and that sometimes they just got dealt a bad hand. "I've just got some things to work out, and I've got to be alone to do so." _

_And then she's out of the car and climbing the stairs and shutting the door behind her and it's not until her ears register the click as the lock falls into place that her lungs begin to function properly again and she feels like she can breathe. _

_The next morning she has work and everyone is hassling her for details and Beth reassures them that she had a lovely time but that she doesn't think she'll be dating for now and when Zach walks in later he does the same and neither speaks of that night again. He still comes by for his weekly deliveries and every time he sees her he buys her a rose and tells her he hopes she has a nice day and that she looks pretty but he never asks her out again and she's thankful for it because somehow she's sure she can count on him to be her friend. _

_Plus, maybe one day he'd understand that she was doing him a favor. _

_Guys like Jimmy and Zach, they deserved nice girls without emotional baggage. _

…

_It's June 17__th__ and it's her birthday and she's just turned twenty. _

_Beth's officially done with her sophomore year of university and a little white lie about having to work the summer so she can save up for a trip to London has her Daddy relenting on his insistence that she goes back to the farm for the summer. She loves and she misses him and Patria and Otis but she knows she's not ready to be back home yet. So he calls her bright and early to sing her Happy Birthday and catch her up on their daily news. She listens intently as he complains about the rise in gas prices and mentions a new family moving into town and a change in control happening with the Sheriff's Department. _

_Plus, there's wonderful news for the Greene Family. _

_Maggie is pregnant. _

_Her sister and Glenn had apparently headed off to Atlantic City with a group of their friends and gotten married in a deliciously tacky wedding so Maggie could prove her point that traditional ceremonies were overrated and that the only thing that mattered was that two people loved each other. It happened the first winter after Beth left for college and now her sister was going to be a mother and officially form her own little family. _

_Beth feels sick to her stomach. _

_It's not that she hates Maggie, or resents her happiness. _

_No. _

_Never that. _

_She loves her sister; loves her fiercely and would be the first one to lay down her life for the oldest Greene sibling if push came to shove. She loves her and loves Glenn and she's happy that they found each other and once that little baby was born, she would love it just as much. _

_This is about something deeper than that. _

_It's about trust being broken and disappointment and a sense of betrayal that ran ragged and deep and left her feeling like a zero to the side. It's about being left alone when she needed her to stay and about pretending like nothing ever happened and like they could just be okay. It's about everything and nothing in particular and being replaced and overlooked and missed phone calls on the weekends and months without text messages. It's about two people who grew up being everything for each other suddenly disappearing. _

_It's about heartbreak. _

_So she tells her Daddy to congratulate Maggie for her and then tells him she has to go because she's got to get ready for her birthday celebration and to not worry and that, yes, she's happy. _

_Beth doesn't cry, because she doesn't do that anymore. _

_(But it doesn't mean she doesn't want to.)_

_So she puts on her favorite movies and gorges on her favorite ice cream and she's just about to start playing Tom Waits and baking brownies when Amy comes barging into her home, carrying two long and black plastic bags, glaring at her baby blue pajamas and demanding that she gets dressed immediately. _

"_It's your birthday and we're going to get all dolled up so we can go out for lunch and then we're going to hit up the new art exhibit the Dolgens are hosting," she declares, shoving one of the bags into her arms and effectively pushing her behind her dressing curtain. Amy slides it close and yells out, "I'm giving you an hour to get ready and then we're leaving!" before heading over to her bathroom. _

"_Okay, okay!" Beth calls back, thankful for the sudden interruption in what she'd originally planned to be a quiet day in. _

_She's not much for loud celebrations anymore, but she'll admit that going out for some good food and browsing through pieces of art in a pretty dress does have its appeal. And the dress really is gorgeous; all black lace and a gold trimming that leaves her back exposed but covers everything else and ends just below her knees. She pulls her hair back into a high ponytail and slips into her favorite high heels and by the time she's finished and looks in the mirror Beth's having a hard time recognizing herself. _

_She looks young and happy and normal. _

_She feels beautiful. _

"_Oh, you're such a fucking babe," Amy teases her the moment she steps back into plain sight, doing a little show of twirling around in her dress while blushing scarlet the whole time. _

_Beth throws her arms around her, pulling the only girl she counted as a best friend into a tight embrace. Amy always had a way of knowing exactly what she needed and making her do things to pull her out of her funks. "You're the best," she tells her, pulling back and grabbing her purse from the counter. "Now let's go because I'm hungry!"_

_They drive down to a diner that has some of the best food she's ever tasted and are way, way, too overdressed and there's a group of teenagers blatantly staring at them but neither girl cares as they proceed to order a tower of onion rings and strawberry milkshakes along with their burgers. Amy flirts with the waiter, batting her eyelashes at him and scoring them a large plate of mozzarella sticks, and Beth giggles at her antics but doesn't interfere with her friend's fun. _

_Once they're finished and stuffed they step outside only to realize the sun is setting and the streets are pretty empty, so they pull out their phones and take random pictures and even though this morning all she wanted to do was lay down and cry, right this moment she couldn't think of the last time that she'd had so much fun. By the time they reach the gallery, they're both exhausted and disheveled, but happy. They've only been perusing for around twenty minutes when Amy's phone rings, loud and obnoxious with a Taylor Swift beat inside the quiet building. She excuses herself, stepping outside to take the call and Beth's momentarily left to wander alone. _

_She stops once she reaches a black and white portrait of a young woman, immaculately dresses in an elegant gown and with her features drawn to perfection. There's a wide smile on her face and she looks beautiful and poised but her eyes are bland and void of emotion. In front of her stands a floor-length mirror, and in that reflection the same girl is standing there except now her make-up is smeared and her clothes are poor and torn and her eyes are full of pain and panic. _

_Beth gaps, knowing exactly why it made her feel so many things and desperately trying to squash them back down her throat before they can escape; so transfixed on the small portrait that she doesn't even notice when a man stands beside her. "That's my favorite, too."_

_She turns her head, surprised to find a handsome man standing beside her, but what catches her attention even more is that he's not looking at her; he's looking straight ahead at the portrait with a concentration and sadness in his chocolate brown eyes that forces her to do a double-take. _

"_The artist drew it for his mother, you know?" he asks, finally turning to look at her. "She suffered from bipolar disorder and they had a really rough time in his family because of it. It's meant to be a reflection of the image we present to society because it is expected of us while we struggle with the demons we carry beneath."_

"_Sorry," he apologizes, a soft tint marring his tanned skin. "I know that's not exactly the best way to start a conversation, but I just really love the feeling behind this piece and it's rare to find someone else who understands what it means. My name's Pete, by the way."_

"_It's okay," she reassures, shaking the hand he offers her in greeting and smiling at him. "I'm Beth, and I understand what you mean. It's really rather breathtaking."_

_It is. _

_It's simple and elegant and raw and ugly but overall beautiful and real. _

_He mentions another painting with a similar design and she remembers seeing pictures of it in her history books and one topic flows into another and pretty soon they're both having an animated discussion about which artist influenced what genre while they walk around the gallery. Talking to Pete about art and history feels easy and comfortable and she doesn't find herself guarding his every move to ensure that he won't try and press his luck because everything about him screams 'gentleman' and 'trustworthy' and 'honest' and Beth lets herself enjoy the low chatter and relaxed banter that she hadn't had with a man in who knows how long._

_Amy comes back, surprised to find her speaking to someone and having a good time after over a year of watching her friend shy away from most contact. Pete takes that as his cue to leave, but before turning to walk away he looks down at the floor, taking a breath before searching for her gaze and asking her if she'd like to get together for a coffee sometime. _

"_I'm not really looking to date right now," she tries to explain, hoping she doesn't sound too rude and for once not wanting to make him go away immediately. There's something about the kindness in his eyes that tells her not to disregard him so quickly; that there's more to this man than she can currently see. "I'm sorry."_

"_Don't worry about it," he shakes it off, offering her an understand smile and deciding not try and pressure her into agreeing. "I really do wish we could be friends, though. Maybe some other time."_

_And then he's turning around and walking away and Beth fills up with dread. Because here is this man who is so obviously a great person and all he's doing is asking her out for some coffee and she can't even let herself have that without invoking the memory of her past lover to ruin it. For God's sakes it's been almost two fucking years and she's still letting the asshole that broke her heart dictate her every move and relationship; she's still giving him that power and demonstrating how she's everything he accused her of being._

_A stupid little girl living on dead fantasies. _

_But not anymore. _

"_Pete!" she calls out, waiting for him to turn around, gathering her wits despite the crowd currently staring at them over her little outburst. "Meet me at Luke's Café on Melrose, tomorrow at noon."_

_The smile he gives her in return steals her breath away. _

_Yeah, this was gonna be a good thing. _

…

Beth's here.

She's fucking _here_.

It's been over five fucked up, _empty_, years without her and now she's back and rationality reminds him it won't last but it's more than he ever though he'd have again.

He'd heard the rumors around work; people gossiping about her being seen driving into town in a Benz with another man. He'd known that the Greenes were planning a big event because the new woman Dale hired to work the garage's front desk would constantly yap about being invited to the ceremony, but he'd never expected Beth to actually show up. This was her first time back since she'd left and Daryl didn't have a clue what he'd find if he even got the chance to see her again.

And then she's there; holding her own and he's never felt more proud of her.

She still looks exactly the way he remembers, but so much better.

She still has her long blonde hair and her thin and feminine shape and her big blue eyes but there's more now. All those parts of her personality that she'd only felt comfortable showing him are out on display for the world to see. She's not hiding behind anyone or anything and the result is magnificent.

Her step is steady and confident and her shoulders are thrown back and her head is held high. She's punching assholes in the face and refusing to back down from anyone, including Rick and himself, and she's asserting herself as an individual in charge of her own life. She's so blatantly beautiful and fierce and strong; just as tough as he always knew she would be.

So much, that when Rick tries to lay down the law and refuses to let her drive home Daryl's almost sure she's gonna punch both of them in the face or kick them in the balls for daring to stand in her way. She is not a person to be messed with anymore, and she'll make damn sure that everyone knows that before she leaves this place again. When Beth finally agrees to let him drive she very calmly informs him that he's going to take her to his house so she can stay in his spare bedroom because she's not going back to the farm yet and anything else is nonnegotiable.

But she won't talk to him.

Beth won't even look at him.

She's sitting beside him and it's clear as day that all the spark he saw back at the bar is evaporating right in front of his eyes, and maybe that's the sign he needed to know that Patricia was right and him and this town would never be any fucking good for her. Not if being here for a few days had her breaking down under the strain and needing to get drunk just to balance herself out. It might have been five years since the last time Daryl saw her but he could still read her as easily as he could track and if there was one thing he was sure of it's that she was having a hard time, even before Len decided to be a motherfucker to her.

'Good,' he tells her when she verifies she's leaving soon, because he'd rather lose her a thousand times and know she's living her life happy somewhere else than have the bright flame she represented in this shitty world blown out. But she misinterprets his meaning, and it's like something vital snaps inside of her.

She turns brutal.

Beth starts going on and on about the man she's with now: how she's happy and he's rich and she's gonna marry him and have his babies and he tries his fucking best to keep his mouth shut and not snap back because if that's what it takes for her to be happy, to get out all the anger she carries around for him, then he'll sit there and listen as she lists and gushes over every quality he lacks and she's found in that other man. He'll do that _for_ her; be the scapegoat that takes every blow until she's too tired to hold onto her bitterness anymore. He won't ruin her family and support system to make himself feel better about the girl the world snatched right out of his hold.

Except, he's too late for that.

"I mean, Patricia told me, you know? How she talked to you and convinced you to let me go. So really, thanks. Maybe when I have my kids I'll tell them all about the kind man who showed their momma the way when she was just a lost and stupid girl who couldn't be trusted to make a choice on her own."

She knows.

She fucking knows everything.

And she's _pissed_.

He stops the truck once he's outside his home and he hasn't even had the chance to turn off the engine when she's already reaching for the door handle, anxious to get away from him, and before he can think about what he's doing Daryl's grabbing onto her arm and pulling her against him and kissing her is pure need and instinct.

He missed her.

God, he fucking missed her.

Desperately and miserably and aching to have her in his arms just one more time and swearing to every deity known to man that he would never let her go again if he could just have her with him. His world didn't make sense without Beth Greene in it to enlighten it and when she was gone everything had turned dark and void.

But now he was kissing her.

Her mouth is all strawberries and honey and now there's a hint of whiskey from the bottle of Jack she'd been drinking earlier and Daryl's arms wrap themselves around her waist, pulling her body tighter against him as he desperately tries to bottle up her taste and her scent. Her lips are soft and plush underneath his and her tongue is hot and light as it touches his own.

And then it's over.

Her palms are pressing against his shoulders, shoving him away from her at the same time that she slides out of the truck's cab and glares at him defiantly. Daryl sighs, following her lead and stepping around the truck until they're standing right in front of each other. She's watching at him like he's the biggest piece of shit in the world and her arms are crossed over her chest and she looks like she's using all her strength to hold herself together.

He does that to her, breaks her down, even when he doesn't mean to.

"Beth," he tries to speak, but she cuts him off immediate.

"No!" she yells at him, shaking her head and taking another step back. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to just shove your way back into my life and fucking _kiss_ me."

"It ain't like that," he tries to defend himself, and what the hell is he supposed to say? That he did it because he still loves her? Because he'd missed her like crazy and he couldn't believe she was back and because he already knew he was going to lose her again?

She'd slap him and then laugh in his face. He didn't say it to her back when it mattered, and he's definitely not going to try and use that card now that she wants nothing to do with him. He's distracted by movement coming from his right side and a quick glance at the window belonging to the dining room in Carol's house has a flash of blonde hair disappearing from sight, no doubt Lizzie trying to eavesdrop after hearing Beth yelling in the middle of the night. "Let's go inside."

He crosses his porch and opens the door, waiting for her to step through it before closing it behind her. His hand brushes against the back of her arm by accident when he reaches for the light switch and she flinches away from it like he's contagious.

"Don't touch me."

It stings. It fucking hurts to know that this girl who used to relish in his touch and allowed him to explore every inch of her body can't stand to be near him; shrinks away from him and keeps herself guarded like she's expecting to be attacked at any given moment. Pains him to know she'll never smile at him the way she used to when she was eighteen and in love and that there's no else to blame for it but him. He made his bed, and he'd lie in it.

"I wasn't gonna do nothing."

"Yeah," she scoffs, looking around his living room for a moment before returning her accusing eyes to him. "You're real good at that."

Daryl wants to look away from her, but he can't bring himself to stop staring.

The thing is, he knows how much he hurt her. Knows he was harsh and heartless and that she never did a thing to deserve it. All she ever did was love him unconditionally and he'd taken that love and that trust and turned it into something dirty and ugly that broke her heart. No amount of good intentions or apologies would ever change that or earn him her forgiveness so he's not going to ask for something he doesn't deserve.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve his honesty.

Telling her the truth was the least he could do for her.

"I didn't want to hurt you," he murmurs, because that's a fact. He'd done it knowing he would, but there wasn't an ounce of him that wanted to cause her any pain. It'd killed him to do it; killed him to watch her crying over him and begging him to stop and asking him _why_, but seeing her now, all grown up and strong and independent, he understood that it was worth it. "It was the hardest thing I ever had to do."

Her laugh is loud and sardonic and unnatural. It's a sound that should never come out of someone as sweet and pure as she'd been but it does and it's raw and it oozes onto the floor like a stain being yanked out of her soul. "I'm so sorry that was hard for you," she hisses, nostrils flaring as anger radiates throughout her. "I can't imagine how much it must have cost you to tell me how stupid and idiotic I was to believe we could have a life together."

"You can't," he answers, because that's another fact he won't lie to her about. "Because I wanted that life, too, but I knew we couldn't have it."

Beth starts pacing, moving around the furniture and pulling deep gulps of breath into her lungs with her fingers turned into fist. "You know what I don't understand?" She questions, and then her steps pick up speed and she doesn't stop until she's standing directly in front of him, looking him dead in the eyes as she prepared herself to gauge his credibility.

"How could you have been so _cruel_?"

Her question is a whisper and he doesn't miss the way her voice breaks at the end or the way her baby blues begin to water when her head leans slightly sideways in confusion.

_Why_?

Because he didn't want her to leave. Because he would have given everything else up if it meant he got to keep her. Because he knew all the reasons why she had to leave but he was in love and selfish and he wanted her to stay with him anyways. Because he didn't trust himself to talk to her and ask her about what she wanted to do like a reasonable and decent human being would without trying to convince her to give up her dreams for him. Because if he had broken up with her and there'd been even a sliver of a chance that she'd taken him back he would have crawled over to the farm on his hands and knees begging her for forgiveness. Because he was trying to give her a fair shot at getting the fuck out of this town and being the best version of herself she could be.

Because he loved her beyond reason.

"Because you wouldn't have left otherwise."

She pauses, perplexed, as if wondering whether her ears were playing tricks on her or she'd really heard him correctly. And then she steps away, mouth opening and closing a few times before she runs her tongue over her dry lips and drops all pretenses aside.

"Exactly," she agrees, tone flat and even, like she's tired of fighting and just wants to call it quits on the whole conversation. "I would have _never_ let you go. I would have fought with _everything_ I had to stay by your side. I would have been happy living here with you and forming a family and I would have never given that up."

Her words have him frozen in place, limbs out of his control and useless as he watches her grab her keychain from the counter he'd placed them on a few minutes ago and start to head for the door.

"Beth?"

"Goodbye, Daryl."

"You can't go out there," he notes, fingers flexing as the feeling begins to return to his body. It still feels heavy, though, like his blood's been tuned to oil and his bones to lead and maybe this is what she felt as she walked away all those years ago; like the weight of the world was coming down on her and she couldn't move away fast enough to avoid it.

"I can't be here anymore."

"You shouldn't be driving right now," he reminds her, choosing not to tell her she _can't_ because he's pretty sure that would be the worst he could possibly do. She'd probably take it as a challenge and speed all the way home just to stick it to him; a giant, metaphorical, _'Fuck You.'_

"Yeah, well," she grunts, not bothering to even look in his direction as she reached for the doorknob and pulls it open. "I don't particularly give a shit what you or anyone else thinks right about now."

And then she's outside and the door slams shut behind her.

…

**AN: The ending is a bit abrupt because tonight's episode kicked my butt and stole my happy little writing buzz when I was in the middle of working on this. I hope you like it anyways and that Daryl's actions make a bit more sense. Big thanks to everyone for reviewing the last chapter!**

**Also, this probably has a couple of grammatical errors. Please excuse them, but my vision is getting blurry from staring at this thing all day and I probably won't catch them until much later. If anyone is interested in being a Beta for me that'd be super helpful. Let me know and I'll get back to you. **

**Next up: more meddling siblings and special appearances because it's about time we start fixing this mess, right? **

**Tell me what ya think! **

**Also, if you want to read something unapologetically fun and fluffy to wash down this angsty-ness, feel free to check out Sunday Mornings. I just posted a new chapter and it's all happiness and Bethyl babies. **

**-**Thus concludes Ashley's super long PSA-


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